


Unbound by Sky

by Quess



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Alternate Universe - Ten Years Later (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Dabi is Todoroki Touya, Dimension Travel, Don't copy to another site, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Happy Ending, Family, Family Fluff, Follows Todoroki canon pre-chapter 248, Found Family, Gen, His actions will have consenquences, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Light Angst, NOT a pure endeavor hate fic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Todoroki (My Hero Academia) Family Drama, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor's Bad Parenting, but then i realized that these kids actually need a responsible adult, his actions won't be excused but pure hate will only muddle his character, maybe? i haven't been reading the manga lately, so some details may be different, this was supposed to be a cute joke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2020-08-12 03:26:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 56,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20142982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quess/pseuds/Quess
Summary: Even ten years later Tsuna manages to get pulled into some time travel shenanigans—courtesy of Lady luck giving him the middle finger. Maybe someone should tell Shoichi and Spanner that you shouldn't leave a portal to another world open while guests are in their lab.Featuring the young Todoroki siblings and Tsuna taking care of these kids because goddamn they need a mentally stable adult that won't take shit from a man-child projecting harder than a child beauty pageant mom.[Updates Wednesdays biweekly]





	1. Goddammit, not again!

When Tsuna was young, despite any objections he might've outright said, he was always forced to go through rather odd, or downright dangerous, situations. Take being a mob boss for example. If ten years ago you had come to his house and said he would lead one of the most influential famiglias in the world, he would’ve laughed and said you had the wrong person before dialling the police. But if that person happened to be Reborn, well, things were going to go _ his _way no matter what.

Don’t want to be Vongola Decimo? Fine then, you’ll be Neo Vongola Primo!

Hell, even now with his experience and power, Tsuna wouldn’t dare cross Reborn. But if he was going to get shot at anyways for his guardian’s rapidly accumulating property damage, might as well tease him about his height. Not that he was much of an exception; he was the shortest out of all his guardians.

Where was he going with this?

Oh yes. Tsuna’s inability to reject his fate.

To be fair, perhaps this time, it wasn’t completely the weapons development unit at fault. More like ninety percent. He really should’ve listened to Shoichi when he warned him about going into his and Spanner’s personal workshops. They were apparently working on the Bovino famiglia’s ten-year bazooka and its space-time capabilities (that really should’ve been the first red flag). But he was looking for Lambo and for some reason, the teen always sought shelter in an extremely dangerous, highly unstable, experimental, and possibly explosive weapons laboratory by the two most impulsive engineers who were each other’s impulse control.

The last thing he saw before Lambo accidentally tripped on a bundle of cables, which short-circuited the giant machine—_ thanks a lot hyper intuition you piece of— _was a bright flash of light and Spanner erasing the twenty-five into a zero on a “days since an accident” sign.

When he opened his eyes, Tsuna saw not the duo’s laboratory but a country road in Japan. If that was it, he would’ve congratulated Shoichi and Spanner for creating a transporter that didn’t make the user nauseous or lose consciousness. But that situation didn’t fit the maelstrom of chaos that fate gave to Tsuna, no, not only did he travel back to his “home” country, but a few people who drove past him were beings who he could loosely call “humans”. Some looked normal, some like very intense cosplayers, but others looked very alien with severe mutations—almost as if the Millefiore took their Flame-hybrid experiments and cranked it up to Frankenstein.

And Tsuna… and Tsuna could only mentally sigh at his situation. If he were ten years younger maybe he would’ve freaked out and panicked. But now? 

“Can’t believe I got used to being thrown through time and space. Why is this normal for me? How did I get here? Oh yeah, _ Reborn _,” he sighed, twidling with a special ring on his finger.

He fiddled with the metal dials on the ring until he heard a buzz and people screaming through his earpiece.

“The ring’s response time was faster by point eight seconds, nice. Hey, Tsuna are you okay?” Shoichi asked.

He dusted his mantel with his other hand, sending a location ping with the transmission ring. “I’m fine.”

“Tenth where are you? Are you okay?” his trusty right-hand asked. “On a scale of 1 to 10 how badly can I punish these idiots?”

_ God, we are all way too used to this. _

“I’m not sure, I’m fine, and I’d rather them fix this problem than waste time repenting for actions they’ll definitely do again,” Tsuna replied calmly as he explained his surroundings. “So either I entered some secret human experimental zone or I’ve been sent to a parallel universe.”

“The latter.”

He sighed. “Please say it’s a universe we travelled through before.”

“Luckily for you Vongola, it is. I think it was about three years ago with Basil.” Spanner said before explaining the world he found himself in. “Oh yeah, there should be a Vongola Headquarters in... Musutafu City set up by Basil so go hang there for a while. The Vindice have no authority over there as far as we’re concerned so you don’t need to handicap yourself in a fight. Got all that?”

“There aren’t Dying Will Flames but Quirks and about eighty percent of the world populace has a weird roulette of powers ranging from simple animal mutations to possibly reality-warping laser death cannons. Because of this, Heroes are an actual profession and there are laws forbidding the use of Quirks in public due to safety concerns.”

He repeated it as if saying it would make it any less ridiculous.

“Yeah, pretty much. Sorry Vongola, but it might take a few weeks to fix the machine. Maybe a little more if your Storm doesn’t revoke our thumb privileges.”

Tsuna so badly wanted to scream,_ “why me?” _ and _ “I don’t want to do this!” _ but buried those complaints deep within himself along where all his hopes and dreams of having a normal, peaceful life stayed.

“I’ll figure something out. Besides, a few weeks without dealing with the mafia sounds great to me.”

Spanner chuckled. “Just remember your little vacation when you come back. I hate fighting with the guys at finance. They already tried to cut our budget in—”

Tsuna hissed at the piercing squeal of the mic screaming directly in his ear. “Are you guys al—?”

He felt a sudden chill down his spine, knowing _exactly_ who took over the intercom.

**“So you think you can just get out of your responsibilities, do you?”**

“H—Hello Reborn.” Damn it he tried not to stutter. “How are you doing?” Oh, he could just _ feel _the glare through time and space.

“Just _fine_," he replied in an upbeat sarcastic drawl, "but I wonder how your kneecaps will be in three weeks.”

“How is everything my fault?” he mumbled as he observed his surroundings.

“A good boss should be able to avoid such problems." He chuckled deviously before his tone lowered. "Now, shut up and listen. You’re a mafia boss, Tsuna. Do you understand? You are _ not _a hero.”

Tsuna weakly covered his smile with his hand. Despite what Reborn said, he could hear the underlying worry and trust in his voice. It reminded him of his youth when the weight of everyone's lives clutched his shoulders; when he feared the tears of his loved ones would drown him. When things turned complex and he thought he _had_ to be a hero to save others—noble and righteous. Someone he wasn't.

But he was only human. He didn't need intricate goals and motivations, he only needed to see what was around him. Some may call him selfish but even the sky had its limits. When one took in too many elements without gaining anything in return, even the sky would break. Any more and he'll crack, as fragile as glass, pieces shattering, the rifts webbing what was left. Coddling him would only sand down the edges but the gaping wound will still be there, hollow and empty.

But Reborn? He was none of that. He didn't take shit from anyone and that included his student's detrimental selflessness. He was the one to shoot at the hole in the sky, tell you to take a hard look at yourself, and then collect the pieces you thought you lost to help you rebuild yourself. It was incredibly tough but he didn't do it out of selfishness but because he knew he could do better.

“I’m not going to jump in at first sign of danger,” he said light-heartedly, “I’d like to remind you that I’m the most pacifistic one out of all of us.”

He clicked his tongue. “That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”

He did. In the past, Tsuna was a coward, a person who ran away at the first sign of trouble. But now with everything he went through, he couldn’t help but become more assertive and to face the danger with pride; he couldn’t help but aid people who were in front of him. Not from heroism, but because he _could_. Not that he would rush into a fight, he wasn’t suicidal, Ryohei, or some hero.

“It’s so nice to hear you care about me, Reborn,” Tsuna teased, “but I’m doing amazing right now. I got fresh air, vitamin D, a change of scenery and I finally got to stretch my legs and I feel _ great! _”

He heard Reborn sigh through his headset, picking up on some chuckling in the background that sounded suspiciously like Takeshi.

Picking up his tone, he said in a sinister tone lacing his voice, “Well then, if you have so much energy—” Why did he think teasing him would be a good idea? "—I expect you to spread the Vongola name, recruit at least one hundred people into our ranks, and when you come back...”

Tsuna coughed, briefly weighing his options to either apologize or starting a new life here.

“A—Are you seriously giving me _ homework _?”

“It’s summer vacation for students in Japan right now, isn’t it? You should be used to this. Or did you suddenly regress back into your pathetic middle school self?”

“Sadist. You are nothing but a sadist.”

“Apparently not enough of one if you have the gall to talk about to me." Tsuna imagined Reborn smugly twiddling the curly cord on a nineteen-seventies rotary phone as he said this. "Maybe I’ll talk to Byakuran and have him send me there.”

The probability of that was less than point one percent but if being with Reborn for over ten years had taught him anything it was that when Reborn _ wants _ something, he’ll _ get _it.

Tsuna turned the dial on the ring by a centimetre, slowly making his way back into its original position.

“Oh… Oh_ no _… you’re breaking up...”

“Tsuna, don’t you dare—”

“Sorry, bye!” He quickly turned the dial, breaking the connection. He impressed himself on how stupidly brave and suicidal his actions had become.

“He’ll kill me for sure that but that’s future me’s problem,” he reassured his current self.

With that Tsuna travelled along the road to the nearest town, trying to run from his problem like any responsible adult. Of course, that wasn’t necessary when trouble stuck to him like a leech—

_ “Villian!” _

_ “Please help!” _

_ “The building’s crumbling!” _

_ “Children! My children are in there!” _

—and he ran towards the screaming without hesitation.

* * *

Somewhere else, a young boy clutched onto his mother, the latter of whom was robotically patting his hair, all sense of warmth and comfort that once there lost to time.

"Mom?" he said, voice wavering.

She hummed noncommittally.

"I heard him saying that he might replace you." His little fingers squeezed her harder as if just the thought could make her disappear. "On the phone. He was talking to someone."

Although it happened hours ago, he could still hear the cold, authoritative voice of his father controlling him, his life. It was after their training, or "father-son bonding time" as he heard one of his father's associates called it. He was walking over to where his mom was, nursing an injury, holding back his tears. Tears didn't help anyone, certainly not himself or his mom.

It was only by chance that he overheard his conversation. Usually, if his father wasn't training him, he isolated himself in this office or had work far away from the house. But today it seemed he was unlucky enough to see him outside of his mandatory training lessons.

"—the boy needs more than what she could offer him," he said rubbing his temples, "go search for someone with high proficiency in ice Quirks then refer them to me. I can't have him tainted and spoiled by some amateur."

As a seven-year-old boy, his mind couldn't connect what he was hearing. He knew that his father was looking for someone to train his right side, his mom's side. The side that eased the pain. But then what about his mom? What would happen to his mom? Would she stop nurturing his left side?

He knew his father was utilitarian, selfish. He immediately discarded anything that was a hindrance and cut ties with anyone that would drag him down. Blood included. He already knew that his family wasn't like what he saw on TV. A happy mom and dad who loved each other, siblings who would pull pranks and laugh about it. Even the simplest things fascinated him: eating homecooked meals together during "family time", play multiplayer games and acting silly, and sleep together under one roof. He was envious of those fictional characters. Even those crafted stories had better chemistry than his family. While they had "family reunions" and reminisced about the moments they shared, he could barely remember the face of his eldest brother.

So would this mean that he would get someone like his father to train his left side as well? Did that mean his left side would be moulded into something that causes pain like his right? Did that mean he would be forced to spend even less time with his mom?

"But that's not going to happen, right?"

He looked at her, not understanding the pain and suffering behind those eyes. He hoped that she would call his name with her comforting voice like back then. For her to embrace him, kiss his cheeks and say that she'll protect him. To say that everything would be alright. He knew it wasn't true but it made him feel better.

"You won't leave me alone, right? Mom?"

She hummed once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a crossover fanart for #khrweek19 on Tumblr turned into a young Shoto&Tsuna one-shot turned into a short series with the entire Todoroki family because why not?
> 
> Link to art:  
https://quietsilenceus.tumblr.com/post/186463402239/july-21st-bonus-day-earth-option-a-au


	2. A Hero

“It’s okay, it’s going to be all okay,” she whispered.

Fuyumi held her little brother in her arms, her clothes wrinkled and soaked by his tears. She shivered, holding him closer, hoping to give him any warmth she still had left. Natsuo bit his lips, burying his head into her shoulders, hiccuping, trying to hold back his cries. They huddled together in silence, the only sound being the muffled hiccups and breathing of the two children. 

Villains attacks were not uncommon. Villains targetting specific people were not uncommon. Villains targetting specific people related to their targets were not too uncommon. Because of the numerous heroes in towns and cities, however, it was uncommon for them to succeed. But of course, the one day Fuyumi got a day out with her younger brother was when the villain attacked. It's been ten minutes? No, maybe more or less she couldn't tell. She didn't have the time or energy tracking it. She didn't know anything about the villain, all she knew is that the moment she saw his hateful glare she took Natsuo by the arms and ran.

Now, they were stuck underneath collapsed buildings with the deafening crush of stone and metal creeping closer and closer to their burrow. Weak sheets of ice covered them, chipping away at each vibration from the impact above, holding back the broken house from caving in on them. Fuyumi, despite having a much higher constitution to the cold than her brothers, came to a point now where she started to shiver and wince at the pain nipping at her burning fingers. She made sure Natsuo's head was against her; knowing that if he noticed her hands he would recklessly try and do the same.

He let out a whimper as she gently shushed him. Being the offspring of a hero meant that they were taught what to do in these types of situations. And the first thing was not to draw any attention towards themselves (though that wasn’t just a lesson on avoiding villains).

She could still hear the shrill laughter of the maniac, trying to search for them. For “justice” he said. What a load of crap. If they had a problem with their father, they should take it up with him instead of taking it out on innocent children whose only crime was sharing his blood.

_Crash!_ They both jumped as a large piece of the ceiling came crumbling down in front of them, Fuyumi quickly covering Natsuo with her body. It wasn’t much but she would do anything to protect her remaining brother.

“I’m s—scared,” he whispered, voice muffled, “I—I want to go back to auntie’s.”

She shushed him gently, creating another wall of ice, making sure the frost didn’t touch Natsuo. “I know, I know. A h—hero will be here to rescue us soon.”

She combed through his hair trying not to only reassure him but also herself. If she didn’t do something to hide her trembling, she feared the worst. She had no other option but to bite back her fear. But as their small sanctuary was becoming smaller and smaller with each piece of falling rubble, a cold sense of dread crawled through her spine, her body becoming numb not only from her Quirk but also at the cold blade of death running down her back.

_Crash!_

Natsuo hiccuped and whimpered, “Fuyu—Fuyumi I don’t want to die.”

“You won’t.” She took deep breaths, refusing to succumb to her fear. “We’re going to be rescued, we’ll get an autograph from the hero for your secret collection, and after we get to auntie’s, I promise to make you some ice cream.”

He let out a shaky breath. “W—With sea salt caramel?”

She nodded, careful not to let her raw, chaffing flesh touch his. “With sea salt caramel.”

_Crash!_ Their talk was cut short as the walls started to shake again as they both braced for impact. She shut her eyes, hoping that her body would at least keep Natsuo alive.

“Fuyumi, look!”

She opened her eyes as hope blossomed on her face. Following Natsuo’s finger, she saw light beaming through the walls, little by little the rubble was being cleared off. It was bright — light filtering through the gaps and crevasses of splintered wood and dented metal — she could see the ocean where her siblings often played together in the far back. Back before Toya left, back before Shoto left, back before mom left. Perhaps it was because she had never been saved so close to death before but the shimmering light dancing on the water seemed to wave at her, becoming bright and beautiful.

Natsuo tugged on her sleeve, a relieved smile stretching his face. She felt tears of relief as she saw the face of her rescuer.

Her hopes were immediately shot down, her heart plummeting to her stomach when she saw not the face of a hero, but the villain.

“Didn’t your _daddy_ ever tell you that you shouldn’t talk while you’re hiding?” he said with a grin splitting his face.

Beg. She had to beg for their— no, her brother’s life.

“P—P—Plea—” Her throat caught her raspy voice, breath trembling, unable to push out a plea of mercy.

Unfortunately for them, the villain didn’t see their mouths move in the dark.

“Not even a ‘please spare us?’” He scoffed, a disgusted scowl on his face. “Wow, you really _are_ Endeavor’s kids.”

She was screaming, yelling, screeching; but nothing came out. Words were coughed up as choked whimpers, her diaphragm jolted the more she tried to force air through her lungs. The white noise, the continuous high pitched ring gradually getting louder, circling her ears, painting her senses in black.

_ Why couldn’t she say anything? Just say something, anything! _

She felt the energy draining from her body, hopelessness coupled with hypothermia didn’t help her consciousness. She could just barely feel Natsuo shaking in her arms. Why did it feel so warm all of a sudden?

_ Heroes, Toya, anyone! Please, anyone! _

“If you want to blame someone, blame your dad for ruining people’s lives.” His arms morphed into something monstrous, the details blurry, death’s scythe silhouetted against the bright sea, taunting her of better days. “I’m not a _monster_ like Endeavor. I’ll at least give you kids a quick—”

**“Fuck off!”**

Fuyumi stared at Natsuo holding out an arm out in front of her, his small body trying to shield her from the villain. She tried to pull him back but only succeeded in weakly twitching her arm in front of her before the limb plummeted to the ground.

“N—Nat…!”

Despite the tears and snot running down his face, he didn’t relent, a thin layer of frost covering his legs.

“If you want Endeavor so bad then go and get him!” He screamed, fear replaced with pent-up frustration. “You’re a stupid f—fucking idiot! You can’t even face him so you take it out on us, y—you C-list villain!”

Fuyumi sucked in a breath. Natsuo was a sweet child, albeit mischievous. He was an out-going boy but he never swore or became defiant like his older brother. Perhaps that was her influence on him but now it seemed like Natsuo was channelling some of Toya’s language.

“You think he cares if something happens to us!?”

She was sure that Natsuo didn’t even register what he‘d said. Hell, if she had the energy and consciousness for it, she would’ve been panicking instead.

“You don’t know anything! Fuck all of you! Why can’t you just leave us alone!”

She desperately wanted to yell,_ “stop it! Stop provoking him, you idiot!” _ But she could only watch as the villain’s arm reared back, blocking the sunlight, blocking the ocean. She could barely move her lips, black blots of static obscuring her vision, her last thoughts being a prayer for Natsuo to live.

In the end, she really couldn’t protect anyone. Not Toya, not Shoto, not her mom, not Natsuo, not even herself.

Natsuo braced himself. Even he knew that without a miracle, there was no hope in getting out alive. His sister had protected him and all for nothing. _ It’s not fair! —_he thought— _why us!? We aren’t bad! _

Maybe being a Todoroki just came with a curse.

“This is justice for everyone _ he _hurt.” He heard little remorse in his voice. “I’ll send your parents to you soon.”

If there was one last wish he had, it was that he could see his—

**“I think not.”**

Both Natsuo and the villain turned their heads towards the new voice. Although he couldn’t see who it was, his heart thumped loudly. It was a miracle; a hero? Please be a hero!

“A h—hero?” He heard the villain stutter. “There wasn’t supposed to be anyone patrolling here to—!”

In a flash, a blinding flurry of orange light filled his vision, a loud _ crash! _reverbing through the hole. But before he could even open his eyes, he was enveloped in a warmth he’d never felt before. It wasn’t warmth in the physical sense, not entirely, it was more of a feeling. Like unwavering love, a promise of protection. It felt like when his mom used to hug him and kiss him to bed at night.

When he opened his eyes, he saw the streets, the ocean, the sky. His body was caressed by the hero’s cape, something familiar and pleasant washing away his fears. Next to him was his sister, worse for wear but still breathing. _Alive_.

Across from the hero was the villain, half-buried into the rubble, his clothes singed at the edges, beads of crystal-like ice embedded into his skin.

He turned towards the hero, clinging to his pants, awe and admiration evident on his face.

“Nope,” Tsuna said as the dust settled, “I’m just a decent human being.”


	3. What Is Your Pride?

Tsuna massaged his wrists, chastising himself in Reborn’s stead. Stinging pain poked and prodded at his muscles, punishing him for using his Flames so suddenly without a proper conduit. It was never good to underestimate any opponent but the amount of power he put into that punch was completely unnecessary—not to mention the shards of deathperation ice clinging to his skin. It didn’t hurt him, they were _his _Flames after all, but the fact he lost control reminded him of how rusty his discipline was.

Admittedly, this wasn't his smartest move; if he was back in his own world, he might’ve had alerted the Vindice, or worse Reborn, for that flashy move—especially out in public like this. He did at least melt the ice with his flames as soon as his impulsiveness subsided. If he didn’t… well, even in a world like this one, he'd imagine trying to explain a glacier of everlasting ice trapping a half-dead singed man in a scorched field of a destroyed residential area would be quite difficult to explain. Or maybe based off Basil's report it wouldn't have been but that was a chance he wasn't willing to take.

In his defence, when he saw a large man with bulging, mutating arms about to kill screaming children trapped beneath the remnants of a house, his instincts took over his rationality. He surprised even himself on how quickly he melted the ice mid-impact. The downside to that was the sudden burst of Sky flames he unleashed, the force rippling through his arm like tectonic plates, giving him a temporary but still quite painful recoil.

“I don’t regret it though,” he said to himself staring far off towards the unconscious man partially buried in the rubble.

He had made sure to keep him alive. He hated to get blood on his hands, much less a life, and as he learned throughout the years, sometimes living was crueller than death. Not that he relished in another's misery—that was favoured more between his Mists. But having seen the cruelty of the mafia, his sympathy for those undeserving waned day by day.

"No, no, no." He chased those thoughts away with a shake of his head. No need for such dark thoughts in a new world.

Tsuna blew away the dust and debris on his shoulders, knowing that his time in the shower today wouldn’t be short. That is if he could find wherever this "hero agency" Basil set up was located.

"But more importantly..."

He glanced over at the children, expecting to see either fear or shock on their faces. He blinked widely when, the little boy, instead, looked up at him with such adoration he swore he could see stars sparkling in his eyes. Despite his torn clothes revealing the nasty cuts and bruises on his skin, it seemed that the boy couldn't feel it through the... admiration?

Tsuna furrowed his brows, a wave of anxiety and worry hitting him. He hadn’t had people, much less children, look at him like that in a long while. Not that it was unwelcomed but... Did the children of this world see fights so often that they became desensitized to violence? Or was it because the attempted murderer's body was not within their sight? Wouldn't children normally be frightened? Though he shouldn't be the one talking about "normality".

“T—Thank you!” Natsuo said, pulling Tsuna's mantle closer to him. “What hero are you?” Before Tsuna could even answer, he gasped, his goggling face souring. “My sister! We need to get her to auntie’s!”

Tsuna kneeled down, getting a closer look at the teen lying unconscious on the ground. Her fingers were a blazing red with pale discolouration at the tips, breathing heavily and twitching erratically. He clicked his tongue, covering her body with his mantle. Thankfully her skin didn’t reach deep frostbite, but a stage somewhere between frostnip and superficial frostbite. Not ideal but reversible without permanently damaging her body.

“How did this happen?” he asked as he sent a jet of flames into his Sun ring. “Is this from her pow—Quirk?”

Natsuo nodded solemnly, biting his lips and balling his shirt as if to contain his guilt. “She protected us from being crushed.”

“You have an amazing sister.” He gave a gentle, reassuring pat on his shoulder. “Don't worry, everything will be fine. She's just unconscious. I promise she’ll be okay…?”

“N—Natsuo!” he said after a slight pause. “And my sister’s name is Fuyumi. Who are you?”

Odd. Given names only?

“You can call me Cielo,” he replied as he took a look at the boy’s wounds. Dark bruises and congealed blood; nothing that couldn’t be naturally healed within a week or two. “I can heal her but make sure to have your aunt get your sister checked out by a doctor later, okay?”

As Tsuna felt his Sky Flames harmonizing with the Sun Flames through the conduit, he gently pressed his hands over her cloaked body, insuring her skin didn’t get into direct contact with his Flames. The harmonization factor of his Sky Flames made him able to wield his Sun with greater accuracy but he lacked the skill and control Ryohei had. According to Basil’s report, it seemed that the people of this world lacked Flames. Meaning, he didn’t know what direct contact between Flames and the residents of this universe would do outside of combat. And both men weren’t one to experiment on the innocent, much less children. It was for that reason Tsuna didn’t heal Natsuo immediately (besides the greater urgency of Fuyumi's injuries). His mantle acted as the buffer that would help regulate his output and keep her warm.

Natsuo gathered a fistful of Tsuna’s shirt, looking anxiously at his flames. He squirmed at the weird coloured fire going anywhere near his sister but this hero had helped them. So he must know what he was doing, right? Besides, something inside him compelled him to put his trust in this adult. But the fire...

Sensing his unease, Tsuna crouched, angling his body slightly towards the boy, making him seem smaller and more open.

“Don’t worry, these flames don’t hurt people. It’s not like normal fire.”

Tsuna placed a hand on his chest, Flames flickering with specks of blinking, starry light. He kept his hand on his shirt for a while with a disarming smile, letting the anxious boy see that he wasn’t bluffing.

“See?" With a theatrical flick of his wrist, he waved the Flames away. "Can’t feel a thing!” he said cheerfully.

Natsuo still looked at him apprehensively, his eyes jumping between the mysterious yellow fire seemingly evaporating into the mantle and the tension slowly loosening on Fuyumi’s face. After a few tense seconds, his shoulders lowered a bit and nodded, balling his hands so he wouldn’t be tempted to stick his finger into the flames. Even if it was safe, it was rude to just… stick your hand into someone’s Quirk like that.

“You both are so incredibly brave,” Tsuna said, trying to ease his mind. “You both did so well protecting each other.”

Natsuo whimpered—_Fuck, _ Tsuna thought—lips quivering as he inhaled sharply through his nose.

“M—My sister’s the one who protected us,” he lamented as he rubbed his wet eyes, trying desperately to act tough, “I didn’t do a—anything! I led the villain to us because I kept talking! It’s my fault she—!”

Tsuna gently took his hand into his, the latter of whom gripped his hand like a lifeline, his tears cascading down his cheeks. His hand felt so small in his. He waited patiently until Natsuo got it all out of his system, only interrupting when he got too self-deprecating, countering his guilt with disapproval and encouragement. Though he didn’t realize it, for Natsuo, he couldn’t help but appreciate an adult who didn’t shush him at the first sign of a tear.

Tsuna stopped his Flames after his intuition sensed he’d done enough, scooting closer to Natsuo and slowly coaxing him into a hug as not to frighten him. Natsuo immediately clung onto his suit, the trembling boy desperately seeking a stable source of comfort.

“It’s also because of you that I knew where to look,” he reassured him, “your sister was saved because of _ you_.”

That wasn’t a complete lie. He could’ve found them through his hyper intuition but the screaming was definitely faster. Not to mention that it was good to remind children that they should alert others when in danger.

“If it weren’t for you, I may have still been searching. In dire situations, every second counts. You saved your family and yourself. Don’t forget that.”

“...I still should’ve stayed quiet,” he said into his shoulder, voice muffled. _“'Keep quiet. Don’t attract attention. Never let him know your location,' _my big brother told me that once. I—I got Fuyumi hurt because of me.”

That… that advice was very specific, Tsuna noticed. Perhaps sharing such safety precautions were normal in this world?

“Sometimes we make mistakes, some more serious than others. The line between bravery and foolishness is very thin,” Tsuna assented, “but who I saw wasn’t a fool who gave up; the person I saw was brave, fighting past their fears against someone more than_ twice _their size. You were backed up against the wall but you still kept your pride.”

Natsuo tilted his head, his puffy face peeking out, rubbing his swollen eyes on the pad of his suit. “Pride…?”

“Pride"—he smiled when Natsuo titled his head—"isn’t about being the strongest or smartest,” he clarified.

“It’s not?” he questioned, perplexed as if the very idea was a myth.

It was easy to say that pride wasn't solely based on strength or status but it was hard to demonstrate it; mostly because people based their worth on outdated standards of society instead of themselves. Takeshi was that way when they first met. His pride hung solely on a frayed piece rope dangling on the whim of others. Tsuna wasn't sure exactly when but somewhere down the line, Takeshi said 'fuck you,' climbed the rope, and abandoned the idea of being the best _for _others. Ryohei and Hayato helped for sure. The former was straightforward to a fault, sometimes literally, always giving reminders and pep talks about self-improvement. In Tsuna's case, he lectured him about how he should not drink the equivalent of sixteen espresso shots before noon (Tsuna blames the Acrobaleno). The former was who he can affectionately call a cat to Takeshi's dog. Although they bickered constantly, they complimented the each other's faults well.

Speaking of, Hayato had a tougher look on self-improvement but his pride also centred around himself. Others may look at their relationship and say it was solely based on subservience and that assumption was correct—at first. As the Vongola's right hand, he didn't take pride in solely following his boss but in his loyalty to his role. It was a thin line, but a distinction nevertheless. What made his pride different from dependancy was that he recognized his own autonomy and _chose_ to protect his Family. There was a difference between living _for_ others and _with_ others.

Luckily, most of his friends had strong personalities, although it's because of said personalities that gave Tsuna his daily migraines. Regardless, their pride didn't stem from pleasing people but improving themselves—again, that was a double-edged sword considering the more... prideful members of his Family.

“Your pride is what makes you, you. It's what’s most important to you," Tsuna finally said. "It’s not something arbitrary set up by others, but the standard you set for yourself to become better. There's no shame in having your pride be _with_ your loved ones.”

Natsuo blinked owlishly in response.

Tsuna let out a chuckle, ruffling the boy’s head. “Sorry, that was a bit complicated, right? Well, what or who is important in your life? For me, it’s my family and my promise to protect them. Because they've been with me, I've gotten better as a person.”

Natsuo went quiet with drying cheeks, his brows furrowed and lips pursed. Tsuna mentally patted himself on the back for successfully distracting the child. 

“My siblings and mom and auntie,” he replied after a long pause, “they don’t hurt me. Some heroes too. The nice ones.”

_ “Such a low standard,” _ Tsuna quietly contemplated.

“Then?” He nodded his head towards Fuyumi sleeping soundly next to them. “You protected your pride.”

“But—”

“You didn’t give up on those you care about and sometimes that’s enough. Let’s think about it this way: if you gave up on your pride, your sister and yourself, what would’ve happened? Were you just going to shut your eyes and hope for the best? Allow him to do whatever he wanted? Were you going to accept that man and why he chased after you both?”

“No!” Natsuo snapped, furious at the mere insinuation that he would think such a thing. “Of course not! He came to us and for stupid reasons and—!” 

“See?” Tsuna stopped him with a proud grin, coaxing the boy to calm down before he felt the wrath of an eleven-year-old. “Just by standing up for yourself you defied him. You didn’t roll over and take it, you took the situation into your own hands. You took away what people like them want: control and power. Just by defending your pride, _ you _ defeated that man.” Tsuna gave him a look of admiration and respect, staring directly into his eyes. “Look, who’s the person standing in front of me, the person who can say they stood up for others like a true hero: that man or _ you_?”

"I—Um..." Natsuo opened and closed his mouth like a fish, suddenly finding the ground very interesting.

_"Hmmm?"_ Tsuna angled his head, catching Natsuo's line of sight. _"Well?"_ he asked coyly.

He squeaked, burying himself back into his shoulder blade, his ears glowing a soft red as Tsuna chuckled airily at his sudden timidity. 

“Well?” He nudged the boy, teasing yet completely serious. “Who?”

“M—Me...” he stammered.

Tsuna hummed, giving his best ‘old man’ impression. “I couldn’t quite hear that with these ageing ears. Who? Who was this brave, young hero who saved his—”

“Me!” he blurted out if only to escape this embarrassing situation.

Tsuna laughed mirthfully, patting his back as an apology. “That’s right. _You_.”

Natsuo’s squeals came out muffled but once he calmed down, his mind finally registering his words, he pressed his little fingers onto his lip, a shy smile unknowingly meeting his blushing cheeks and red eyes.

“Me...” he whispered disbelievingly as if his tongue was disconnected from his body.

Once Tsuna saw Fuyumi’s complexion had returned (and Natsuo released his grip), he wrapped her in his mantle and gingerly lifted her up with one arm, making sure her neck and head was properly supported. Natsuo, on the other hand, goggled at Fuyumi’s non-blistered, healthy skin peeking through the fabric. It was like she never overused her Quirk in the first place!

He leaned towards her, Tsuna kneeling on one leg so he could see her better. Natsuo ran his finger from her forehead to her cheek, skin free of cuts and warm to the touch. He pulled the cloak lower in disbelief to see her unblemished skin as if the piece of fabric was hiding all her wounds. Besides some dried blood and grime, all her injuries were gone! Twitches and erratic breathing were replaced by soft snores, the only evidence left of the ordeal being the damp and tattered clothes she wore.

If he weren’t so emotionally spent, he would’ve cried again.

“You really did heal her… you really did heal her!” he repeated just to convince himself. A huge grin couldn’t help but stretch his lips as he hugged her, his small body unable to contain the joy and excitement welling within him.

Tsuna turned his head away from the bouncing boy and let out an amused snort, finding the excited boy adorable. It reminded him of Lambo when he was a toddler. Taking on a more serious face, he was just happy that he was able to help them. He gave a reassuring glance, nodding his head towards the crowd of people in the distance standing far away from the rather large destruction site.

“Let’s go find your aunt, okay?” he said as he offered his free hand.

Natsuo nodded eagerly, taking his hand as Tsuna carefully guided him through the uneven terrain.

“You really healed her with fire! Is that your Quirk? Healing fire?” Natsuo rattled off, fumbling over his words. “That’s so cool! I’ve never seen that before! What’s your hero name? Are you an underground hero? I saw orange fire before. Is that also your Quirk? Do you have two Quirks? My little brother also has two Quirks. But he has ice and fire instead of healing fire and normal fire. How does your yellow fire heal people? How come it doesn’t burn?”

“My flames aren’t like normal fire. And yes, both flames are part of my Quirk.” He felt a bit odd talking so freely like this without the Vindice’s chilling presence lingering behind him. “You mentioned that your brother can use ice and fire? That's cool. I can too.”

He gasped. “So you have three Quirks!? I didn’t know that could even happen. Does it hurt you? Does it hurt?” he asked, pulling on his hand with a troubled face.

“No, not if I don’t misuse it." His first meeting with Natsu was not exactly his proudest moment. "Though to be fair, anything can be lethal in the wrong circumstances—especially in Reborn's hands, _cazzo."_ He whispered that last part. "Just think of my power as energies that only _ look _like fire and ice.”

He bit back a grin at Natsuo’s innocent confusion.

_"Natsuo! Fuyumi!” _

“Auntie!”

Natsuo nearly tripped on a piece of rubble running towards his guardian, hugging her tightly as Tsuna made his way down, careful not to jostle the sleeping girl.

“Oh,_ oh! _ Thank God you’re alright!” she cried, gripping him as if he might disappear at any second. “If something happened to you, I—Fuyumi!” She swerved her head around frantically. “Where’s your sister?”

Natsuo pointed to Tsuna who was carefully making his way down, giving a reassuring smile towards the distressed woman.

“I apologize, Miss. I didn’t want to wake her,” he informed her as she ran up to him. “She’ll be fine, but please take her to your family doctor just in case.”

“Fuyumi... Thank goodness,” she muttered, shoulders dropping as she exhaled. She ran her hand through Fuyumi’s hair, the latter sleeping soundly. “Oh… Thank you so much…?”

“His name is Chee-l-lo!” Natsuo piped in.

“Cheello...?”

“_Cielo_,” Tsuna corrected in a more Japanese accent, “It’s Italian. Anyways, may I help escort you all somewhere safer? I wouldn’t want to wake Miss Fuyumi and if bast—_villains _ like him specifically targeted these children…” _ They were either from an important family, pissed off the wrong people, or both. _

Tsuna’s eyes burned a fierce orange. Mercy would only be given to those who at least had a concept of basic human compassion. Still, Tsuna was a relatively peaceful person whose conscious tugged at his heart every time he had to do something unsavoury. So he showed that man a bit of mercy if only to give a chance at redemption. If he were anyone else, that man wouldn't have gotten off with the same generosities he gave—of broken bones and third-degree burns, also maybe some mild to severe traumatic brain injury. Again, _mercy._

Quickly he hid his anger behind his smiling mask. “I would like to guide you all to a safer place if you’ll allow me.”

“You’ve already done so much...” She bit her lips, her gaze bouncing from him to the children.

Sensing her reluctance Natsuo piped in again, defending the "hero".

"He can do it! Auntie! You should’ve seen him! He had this cool fire Quirk! He beat up the villain and _swoosh_"_—_he swung his fist in an arc—“we were out of the hole! And this yellow one where he healed Fuyumi with these sparkling lights and it was so awesome!” he rambled incoherently with short breaths.

Meanwhile, she looked at him as if he was replaced by some lookalike. Natsuo was an excitable boy, especially when comparing him to his siblings, but he was never _ this _ animated. And most importantly, he would never talk about a _ fire _Quirk this passionately.

She turned to look at the man in front of her. He was meticulously dressed in an expensive-looking suit and tie. Although he just came out a destroyed site, his clothes were clean and didn’t have a single scratch on him. Despite looking like one of Enji’s business associates, he had an air around him that felt… approachable, vulnerable even.

“Then if it’s not much trouble...”

“Please, it’s no trouble at all. I can’t turn a blind eye on a situation I can clearly aid in.”

She wondered if this was how real heroes acted.


	4. Settling In

“Please make yourself at home. I’ll bring you some tea,” Yuki, the children’s aunt, said giving a courtesy bow.

Tsuna nodded his head in thanks, sitting down near the corner of the patio.

As he heard the doors slide close, he took a deep breath, a sense of nostalgia hitting him. He hadn’t been outside of Italy, much less Japan, for leisure in a long time. It wasn’t voluntary, yes, but years of living as a Vongla taught him to take things into stride. It was slightly different, but the air was familiar nevertheless. He was offered a traditional Japanese room facing the sea, well-maintained and clearly owned by a wealthy family. It reminded him of Kyoya’s Foundation.

“Hmm… I wonder if the mafia would be prevalent in this world as well. Probably not considering heroism is an actual profession. A world where heroes and villains are real, huh?” he sighed, leaning his back against the wall. 

He could see so much going wrong with a society primarily based on the blind trust of heroism—whatever _that_ meant. Either the mentality of this world worked in ways Tsuna was unfamiliar with or the faults in the system were hidden under all that bravado.

“Isn’t just basically renaming? What’s the difference between a mafia boss and a villain?” Tsuna mumbled to himself. “At least Basil would’ve been able to forge the necessary documents for me. I’ll just have to survive until I get briefed at Musustafu, was it? I should ask Yuki for a map.”

He stroked Natsuo’s head, the latter of which was sleeping soundly on the former’s lap. Halfway through the trip, Tsuna carried him in his other arm (much to the amazement and embarrassment of Yuki) as the adrenaline wore off. Since then, Fuyumi had been moved to another room with the family doctor while Natsuo clung to his shirt like a baby sloth. He didn’t mind it. It reminded him of the past; when Lambo or I-pin used to sleep on him after they moved to Italy. Though Natsuo was noticeably calmer than the two.

Tsuna lifted his hand as he felt Natsuo begin to stir.

“Mom…?” Natsuo groaned, wiping his tired eyes. He yawned, slowly taking a moment to adjust to his surroundings before his eye blew wide staring at Tsuna.

“Hey,” Tsuna said gently, “your sister is just in the other room. Still tired?”

He nodded, looking at Tsuna as if he was an alien (which wasn’t _ too _far from the truth) in awe, slightly embarrassed, but mostly confused.

Tsuna tilted his head. “What’s wrong?” 

Natsuo fiddled with his fingers, unsure if he could say what he thought. The last time he said about a Quirk, he got those _ eyes_. Cold, uncaring, annoyed. It wasn’t just him; he knew Toya and Fuyumi felt it too—that fear. It only took a side glance to paralyze them. It was a different sort of fear than a villain attack, it felt more haunting because it felt like it was _ their _fault for asking something “stupid”. But it wasn’t! It wasn't their fault! All he wanted was to make his parents proud, to follow in his father’s footsteps.

He took a quick glance at Tsuna and bit his lips in an uncertain manner. _ Cielo isn’t like him at all —_he thought— _he’s like All Might_. _ He’s super nice and kinda like mom. _

“You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to,” Tsuna assured. The last thing he wanted to do was give the boy anxiety. “It’s okay to say no.”

Natsuo leaned into his shoulder, slowly reaching for his mantle. “I’ve never met a hero as cool and nice as you, Cielo.” Once he realized that Tsuna wasn’t stopping him, little by little, he started to gain a little more confidence, grabbing and prodding at the fabric. “I couldn’t see it really good but I saw that _ whoosh _of fire and that villain was down. Then like it was warm like a winter blanket but like around the heart. Then, like the yellow— I know you said it was your Quirk but— How did you get us out of there?”

Thank goodness he had previously worked with children before. Their tongues could never quite catch up to their thoughts. Even so, he couldn’t exactly divulge all of the Vongola’s secrets even if this was a whole other universe.

“Well, I’m pretty fast and as I said before, my flames are a bit different than normal fire.”

“Yeah! Your fire was like sparkly and super bright like a highlighter and went _ fuuwahhh! _” He stretched out his arms widely with fistfuls of his cape still in hand as Tsuna chuckled at the adorable display. “I’ve only seen burning fire... Hot fire. Fire that’s so hot, you can’t get near it.”

Tsuna’s hyper intuition was ringing in the back of his head as he saw the boy swaddle himself in his cloak—almost as if he was using him as protection from his own memories.

“My Flames can hurt others but I know when and where to use my pow— Quirk. Fire isn’t scary but the person using it might be.”

Natsuo buried his nose into his mantle, nodding knowingly.

“Say,” he said, trying to change the topic, “you said that you wanted to know more about me, right?”

He peeked out, gazing at him with interest.

“Then let’s play a game!”

“A game?”

Tsuna teasingly poked Natsuo’s cheek through the heavy cloth, coaxing him to come out. “We’ll go back and forth asking one question. The only rule is that we can pass on a question we don’t want to answer. I’ll go first: what’s your Quirk? Is it something ice related?”

He blinked, head popping out of his mantle like a meerkat. “How did you know?” he whispered.

“I’m all-knowing,” he teased with a smile.

Okay, _ wow_. He felt a shudder there. Reborn was definitely not a good influence on him.

“I guessed from seeing your sister. It's your turn now.”

Natsuo hummed, pursing his lips before looking back at him. “Why’s your hero name Cielo? Don't heroes have name with like, a _bang?_”

He supposed he was right. If heroes were basically glorified celebrities with supernatural powers, then it was basically the "brightest star wins" situation, wasn't it?

“I don't like to stand out very much and it was a name given to me by a close friend— well, actually the second name." Because "Grande re del Cielo" sounded a bit _too_ pretentious for his tastes.

"That's nice. It doesn't sound Japanese. Is it American?"

He shook his head. "It's Italian."

“Italian? What language is that?”

Oh boy. How to explain the different history, dialects, and intricacies of a country’s tongue to a child. “It’s the language of Italy, Europe”—such a simple explanation from a simple man— “it’s pretty far away from Japan.”

Natsuo raised his hand like he was in class. “I know Europe!”

“Really? You must know a lot, Natsuo.”

“Yeah! Me and Fuyumi and auntie went there once! But we didn’t go there. We went to uh… Sweden? It was really different but I liked it! I saw really cool heroes and they spoke with an accent. Oh! And we were near the ocean and I built a sandcastle!”

“Sounds fun!” Tsuna said equally as enthusiastic. “Do you like the sea?”

He nodded his head eagerly. “The ocean is so cool. There’s sharks and stuff. I know a lot about the sea.”

“Really? What do you know about the sea?”

“It’s super deep like you can sink a whole city in it and it’ll never fill up! Like Atlantis! And I know lots of animals! I know jellyfish, they’re squishy and are like ninety-five percent water. And there's more than a thousand types of fish! I know the yellow tang. I know—”

Natsuo listed off an extensive amount of aquatic animal names that Tsuna had never heard of before, nodding as if he knew what the fish with the “neon frisbee skirt fin” was. He even said some with their scientific names which made Tsuna wonder if he heard his words correctly through his slur of excited ramblings. It reminded him of how excitable Hayato could be with his research on UMAs or Takeshi with the results of the latest baseball game.

“Ah!” Natsuo placed a hand over his mouth and stared at Tsuna. “Tell me about Italy. What does your hero name mean? Does it mean fire?”

“Nope." Tsuna pointed at the window. "Cielo means sky.” 

“Sky? Why?”

Yay, another mafia-related question! “Well, where I’m from, I lead a hero agency…?”

“I knew it!”

Okay, so he did use that term correctly. “To me, this agency is more like a family.”

“A family? You work with your family?” Natsuo’s tone became more sombre, a slight sense of disbelief in his words. “Do… Do you ever fight?”

Tsuna exhaled, slumping his shoulders in defeat. “_All_ the time. Sometimes I can’t get them to stop fighting—!”

Tsuna quickly shut his mouth. This was no time to complain to an eleven-year-old.

“But at the end of the day, we’re family. Sure, we get on each other’s nerves and we often disagree on how we should handle things"—sometimes a bit _too _much—"but it doesn’t come at the expense of our bonds.”

Natsuo twiddled his thumbs. “So…if they made you mad, you’d still like them?”

“Of course!” Tsuna replied instantly. “Everyone of my friends and family is worth more to me than anything in this world. We don’t have to be blood-related to care.” He saw conflicting emotions in the boy’s eyes. “Didn’t you say you loved your sister and aunt?”

“N—No!” Natsuo averted his gaze, slightly defensive. “I care about them but I’m too old to love! That’s for babies!”

He rose his brow. Did children think like this at this age? “Why do you think love has an age? You can be a hundred and still love your family and friends. How old do you think I am?”

“Uh…" He squinted his eyes. "Like eighteen?”

His stomach tensed, trying to contain his laughter. “I’m much older than that.”

“I— I meant forty!”

Oh, children and their sense of time. “I’m twenty-five.”

He gasped. “You’re twenty-five??”

Tsuna wasn’t sure if such a number actually registered in his mind or it was because he had never met someone his age before.

“Yep, twenty-five and still loving my family and friends.”

It actually made him a bit sad that the boy was ashamed to openly admit he loved his family. He couldn’t tell if it was a coping mechanism or something else. Briefly, he wondered what history this household held.

“You don’t need to be afraid to admit you care for others. After all, for me, my family and friends are the reason why I’m still here.”

Natsuo blushed. “Then um... my pride... mom… and my brothers.” _Oof. _ There was a lot to unpack there.

“And I’m sure they love you too.”

He hummed doubtingly. “I don’t think my mom does. But I’d be nice if she did.”

_ Oh. _ There was a _ lot _to unpack there.

He had his suspicions but Tsuna really hoped that this wasn't another case like Chrome's. At least his situation was better than Chrome's considering that he had people who cared for him—now. Now that he thought about it, where _were _the parents? He's gathered that Natsuo wasn't close to his parents but was it another case of child neglect due to unfortunate circumstances, obligation, or...?

“Natsuo?”

“Ya?”

“I said this before but I think you’re really brave and strong. Giving others your kindness isn’t easy. Even for adults, sometimes especially for adults, that’s hard to do. You did something not even some adults can do—”

Tsuna nearly choked on his words as Natsuo slammed his head into his chest, making a sound between a squeal and whine.

Natsuo was practically vibrating at this point. He didn’t have a fire Quirk but he sure as hell could feel the heat radiating from his ears to his cheeks. He never had anyone so interested in what he was saying. He never had someone make him feel _ right _for what he was saying. Sure he had people who loved him wholeheartedly like Fuyumi or his aunt, but even they shushed him at times, making him feel bad for asking.

Although it wouldn’t be until much, much later that he realized that they this out of concern for his safety just in case he said something to anger his father. However, to the eleven-year-old boy right now, he could only feel betrayed and hurt. He still loved them of course, but he just couldn’t get himself to trust them wholeheartedly no matter how hard he tried.

Cielo was different. No— that wasn't right. He wasn't different from everyone else. He was what everyone was like before. He just felt like warmth and comfort. Something inside him compelled him to trust this man and it felt natural too. He didn’t speak down to him. He didn’t coddle him. He just _ talked _to him. He hadn’t felt like this since his father split his family.

Natsuo untangled himself from the mess of the cape, getting off his lap, and sitting in front of him. “I think you’re my favourite hero after All Might, Cielo.”

“Really? Even though you just met me?”

He wasn’t one to talk. He’s had people willingly join his family within twenty-four hours of knowing each other.

“You’re super cool. But All Might is the strongest hero and my dad hates him because he can’t beat him. So it just feels right.”

_ Ahh, _preadolescent grudge to one’s own father. He could relate.

“Can you show me your Quirk again? The yellow sparkly one, the one you healed my sister with.”

Tsuna ran through a million scenarios in his head decided that it would be fine as long as he didn’t use his Flames _ on _him.

“Okay, but don’t touch the flames, okay?”

“Why? I thought they weren’t the burn-y kind?”

“They aren’t”—technically—“but what my flames do is accelerate growth in cells.”

“Isn’t that good? Cells need to grow?”

“But too much and they die. I’m sure I won’t hurt you, but I want to make sure you stay _safe_.” That, and to avoid any misunderstandings if someone happens to walk in. “Promise me you’ll only look, okay?”

He grinned, bouncing on his legs.

Tsuna stretched his right arm in front of him, sending a small stream of flames into his ring. Within a second, the ring sparked, engulfed in bright yellow Sun flames with small stars peppering the fire. He controlled his output so the flames were no bigger than his hands. To be honest, Tsuna was fairly certain that he had enough control of his Sun flames (courtesy of Reborn) to heal Natsuo but he didn’t want to risk him by testing it out.

Natsuo, with the star mirroring in his eyes, took short, excited breaths. As he leaned his head in, Tsuna placed his arm as a guard so that he couldn’t accidentally faceplant directly into his flames. Entranced, Natsuo didn't even notice, his knees pressing into Tsuna's thighs.

“It’s so close but it doesn’t feel hot! What are those stars for? Do you feel hot? Because when I use my Quirk, I feel cold. It just doesn't hurt until I use A LOT.”

“That’s just how my flames look and no, I don’t feel hot. A little warm maybe?”

“But fire doesn’t work like that! You have magical fire,” he said resolutely.

Tsuna nodded wordlessly. It wasn’t too far off from the truth.

For the next few minutes, the two went from one to another, continuing their questions game—often indulging in harmless quips on Endeavor. He’d almost forgotten how savage kids can be. Though he wasn’t one to meddle in another family’s affairs, _ha, _his opinion on this man wasn’t very high—maybe on par with his own father.

Hearing footsteps, Tsuna waved his Flames away, the remaining embers dancing in the air before being blown out. The door slid open, Yuki entering the room with a few people trailing behind her.

“I’m so sorry it took so long but I’ve brought some snacks— Natsuo! Don’t be rude to our guest! Get down now.”

Tsuna waved his hand nonchalantly. “It’s fine, Miss Yuki.” He lifted Natsuo up, tucking his hands under his arms and placing him next to him.

The people who came in with Yuki, the house attendants, set up a nice table with tea and snacks, quickly bowing before they left.

“How’s Miss Fuyumi?” he asked, handing Natsuo the red bean mochi he was drooling at.

“She’s fine. The skin around her fingertips hardened but it isn’t irreversible with routinely care. Before she went back to sleep, she filled me in on what happened and I— I cannot thank you enough for what you’ve done.”

“Please, I’m just glad she’s okay.”

“Yes, speaking of…" She gave Natsuo a disapproving stare. "Natsuo, go get your wounds cleaned up and change out of those clothes.”

He looked at Tsuna then back at his aunt. “Now? Do I have to? I can do that later.”

_ “Natsuo...” _

Tsuna took a sip of his tea, intervening before an argument broke out. “Listen to your aunt. I promise I’ll still be here by the time you’re back.”

He puffed out his cheeks but darted towards the door. “You promised!” he said as he left.

Yuki sighed into her cup. “I’m so sorry for all this inconvenience we’ve caused you.”

“There’s really no reason to apologize. He’s just an energetic boy.”

“You seem to be good with children Mister Cielo.”

A friendly comment or a prying question?

“Just Cielo is fine. And I’ve taken care of a few kids before. If I may change the topic, what happened to the... villain?”

Saying "the villain" felt weird. It made him sound cartoonish compared to what he actually was: an attempted first-degree murderer.

“He’s been detained by the police,” she said coldly.

“I imagine I have to be taken for questioning, correct?” She nodded.

Tsuna debated whether or not to ask but ultimately, if he was going to stay here he needed to know his surroundings. That, and even if he said he didn't like meddling in other's problems, he couldn't turn a blind eye to the people in front of him. Even if he did, his damn hyper intuition would just nag at him as if he was back in school with a paper he procrastinated on until the week of the deadline.

“Please feel free to pass this question but, are the kids targeted often?”

Children bounced back quickly but in situations like this, they usually didn't—at least not as fast as Natsuo did. He’s seen kids, and he’s seen what a traumatic event could do to someone so young and impressionable. Tsuna wondered if the issue lied in their upbringing or the very real possibility that they, like him, had targets on their backs growing up. If he connected his dots correctly, he deducted that these kids were either from an influential or powerful family—legal or underground he wasn’t sure of.

“It’s natural because of their _ father_, Endeavor,” she spat out, emphasizing her distaste in the word, “father”.

“I assume he’s either a villain or a hero?”

“You… You don’t know _ Endeavor?”_

“I should’ve probably asked for a copy of Basil’s report before teasing Reborn,” he thought.

Without missing a beat, he replied, “I’ve been out of the country for quite some time so I’m afraid I’m a little out of touch with society.”

“Ah, of course." She didn't sound too convinced but there, at least, wasn't suspicion in her voice. "Forgive me, I’m unfamiliar with how underground heroes operate.”

Yay, terms he doesn’t know the full definition and context of! This was just soon going to become a giant word game for Tsuna, wasn’t it?

“How did you know?”

“I did my research. Excuse me but I'd done some background checks done before you got here,” she stated without an ounce of remorse.

“Background checks?”—_t__hat was it? Also, hey Vongola? Basil? How the hell are we this prepared??—_“I see, you’re very thorough,” he confirmed lightly, taking another sip.

Yuki stared back at him, surprise on her face for a brief moment. “Most people would be offended.”

“I’m not one to discourage others from looking out for their families. Besides I didn’t even expect to be invited in, much less given blind faith.”

Considering how dangerously oblivious Namimori was, and how crazy the mafia was, a healthy amount of suspicion was actually a breath of fresh air for him. And though this may have been normal, maybe even encouraged, for Tsuna, to Yuki this was surprising considering that he was a “hero”. Society had been built on the unwavering faith in them after all. Their culture, for better or for worse, was built on the image and marketability of heroes. She was no different when she was younger. But then her sister married that _ man _and she saw the flaws of such a system. She wondered if this mentality was due to him being a genuinely good person, an underground hero who tended to avoid the spotlight, or both.

“Endeavor is the number two hero in Japan and the children’s father. Because of this, he has villains who try to kidnap or hurt them.”

He hummed. He doubted that the murderer would go so far just for notoriety. “Though I didn’t hear the full story, it seemed like the villain held a personal grudge against this man.”

She took the teapot, pouring another cup for both of them. “Sad to say, I wouldn’t even blame him. Endeavor isn’t exactly known for his _ sociability_. Of course, that’s no excuse to go after innocent children. But I’m sure this whole issue would’ve been resolved by a simpler solution or never happened in the first place if not for his _choice_ words and actions.” She took a sip. “Sometimes I wonder if all that muscle left no room for his brains.”

_ Oh, _ he liked her. Calm, and tactful in their insults. If Reborn saw how physically and vocally composed she was while hiding her contempt, he would’ve demanded her to join the Vongola on the spot.

“Anyways, I’d like to thank you again for taking care of the children. It’s been so long since I’ve seen Natsuo this happy. He wasn’t feeling like his usual self lately." She turned towards the door, the coldness of her face melting away, smiling fondly. "If you need anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask.”

“Actually, if it’s not too much trouble, can you tell me where Musutafu City is located? I’ve been away for so long that Japan looks like a whole new world to me.”

Her eyelids fluttered in surprise. “Who doesn't? It's the beacon of heroes in Japan after all. Actually, Fuyumi is heading back to Musustafu in about two weeks. I can have you arranged to go then. If not, I’ll have a paid cab ready for you. But I suspect Natsuo would like the former better.”

Sly. His intuition was telling him that Natsuo wasn't the only reason why she wanted him to stay for a while. “I don't like asking for favours but for as long as you’ll be willing to host me, I'll stay. Thank you.”

The only reason why he headed there was because he didn’t have a place to stay before Shoichi and Spanner fixed the machine. He wasn’t in a rush or anything. Besides, the further he was from Vongola territory the more distance he had from his impending doom and responsibilities. Not to mention, he could just fabricate an excuse if he needed to get out of here for whatever reason.

“We’ll have guest amenities ready for you within the hour. The east wing is private but otherwise please enjoy your stay here. If you have any questions you can ask the staff.”

Tsuna nodded. “If it’s not rude to ask, this house seems to be very accustomed to visitors.”

“Well, this is one of Endeavor’s summer homes. So the occupants are usually the children, staff, or his guests. Suffice it to say, we’re used to sharing a roof, especially with other heroes. Though this will be the first time we’ve consented to it,” she said exasperatedly. “Ah! I apologize, I’m not usually this oversharing...”

No, he’s sorry for his Sky’s harmony factor. “I feel like this comprises most of our conversation, but really there’s no need for you to apologize to me. I’m happy to lend an ear.”

The two came to a comfortable silence, enjoying their refreshments until Natsuo came barging in with fresh bandages and one slipper missing asking him to show off his Quirk again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was extremely busy last week so sorry about that! School started and with the other responsibilities I have, it's getting harder and harder to find time for leisure. Also, I have a quiz tomorrow so if the pacing is weird, forgive me. I'll revise afterwards when I have time
> 
> Otherwise, thank you for the kudos, comments, and bookmarks!


	5. A Discussion

When Fuyumi woke up, she half expected to see the face of God smiling down at her. But instead, she saw the face of her younger brother and a charming stranger.

_ Eh… _ close second.

“You’re awake!” Natsuo leapt into her arms, nearing squeezing the life out of her. “How are you feeling?”

She blinked. And blinked again. Gradually, as her drowsiness faded away, she slowly lifted her hands to her face as if she had woken up in a stranger's body.

“I feel...fine?” she questioned with furrowed brows.

Her eyes trailed over her skin, from her fingertips to her legs. She poked her arm, gasping at how her skin wasn’t two different shades of blue and well… _there_—still connected to her body. She was exactly the same as before, the only difference being her flakey cuticles and the small bit of skin hardened on her fingertips. She slapped her hands all over herself, making sure she wasn’t hallucinating. She may not have been given any hero training but even she knew that with how far she pushed her Quirk, she shouldn’t be able to freely move, much less come out without any scars or amputations.

Her gaze fell over to her snuggling brother. Gently cupping Natsuo’s face in her hands, she was half relieved that her brother made it out with a few bruises at most. The other half was even more confused as to how _ he _could possibly sustain more injuries than she did.

She gaped, tracing the rim of his healed cuts. “How…?”

Natsuo squealed—Fuyumi flinching at his sudden movement—as if he could finally tell her the secret he’s been desperately hiding for years.

“Cielo did it!” He pointed towards the well-dressed man leaning against the wall, the latter of whom waved at her. “He healed you!”

Natsuo jumped off her, racing towards the man. This must’ve been a regular thing because even before Fuyumi could warn the man, he anticipated Natsuo’s excitement, catching him smoothly before he ran into him. Natsuo pouted as the man placed him down with a teasing smile. He grabbed him by his sleeve and tugged him closer to her bedside.

“He’s the hero who rescued us from that villain!” he said with a sense of pride. Even before she could get a word in Natsuo continued.

“He’s Cielo the Sky Hero! I made that second part up myself! Cielo let me _ title _him because he didn’t have one. Weird, right?”

A hero without a title? “Oh. I guess—?”

“But he’s really cool!” he quickly added as if he dared to hurt his hero’s feelings. “He’s been staying with us since they arrested that villain! His Quirk is super awesome! It’s— It’s like really nice feeling fire with little sparkles in the middle! But then he has this even stronger fire, right? It's so cool!”

He turned towards his hero and nudged him closer to Fuyumi so that he was standing right next to her as if to say, “don’t be shy!” He merely chuckled at Natsuo’s pushiness, still keeping a respectable distance from her.

“I’m glad you’re okay. You must be feeling a little groggy, right?” he asked as he sat down next to her futon with Natsuo climbing on his back. “Sorry about that. My Quirk can take a lot out of a person.”

It usually wasn't for this long. But he attributed that to his inexperience and the people of this universe having a different physiology than his. 

“Now that you mention it...” Her body, although painless, was stiff and mildly aching from bed rest. “How long was I asleep?”

“About three days"—Natsuo climbed higher and sat down on Tsuna so that his legs were draped over his shoulders—"and according to Yuki, you did wake up from time to time but I don’t think you were completely lucid.”

Fuyumi traced her memories. Yes, although the scene was very foggy, she remembered that her aunt took care of her. Pursing her lips, she tried to recollect anything else but the only things she remembered were vague feelings and vivid sensations; like a nostalgic sense of warmth.

Realizing that she had yet to introduce herself, she gave a small bow to Tsuna. “Sorry um— Forgive my manners. Thank you for saving us.”

He gave her a one-shouldered shrug. “I’ve heard enough thanks and apologies from Yuki to last a lifetime. I’m just glad you’re better now.”

“Thank— Oh.” She fiddled with her hands awkwardly, unsure of how to continue the conversation. “Um...”

Natsuo, uneased by the sudden tension, jumped to his feet, running towards the door and slamming it open. She jerked her head towards him with the loud _slam_ of the door, one part curious and the other dreading at the thought of being alone with a stranger.

“N—Natsuo?”

“I know what’ll make you feel better!”

_ “Wait—!” _

Before Fuyumi could utter another word, his footsteps echoed in the distance. She sighed, muttering something about how silly he was before flushing red at the realization that she had a guest in front of her. She turned away, cool hands on her heated cheeks.

“...ice cream.”

Tsuna rose a brow. “Ice cream?”

“I like ice cream,” she said fiddling with her blanket, “it’s my um… comfort food.”

“Ah… I see it runs in the family,” he said, amused. “I like them too, especially the ones filled with sweet red bean. Good thing too because I’m sure Natsuo would fight me for the caramel sea salt.”

He refrained from teasing the girl like he would with I-pin. One of the many things he remembered with being with Haru during his teens was that guilty pleasures were embarrassing to say out loud, even if it was something harmless. Understandable considering that Tsuna wasn’t exactly that loose-lipped himself. This, especially towards strangers who are several years older than you—much less an adult.

She chuckled, a motherly fondness in her voice. “I’ve never seen him so animated.”

“I’ve heard that from Yuki too.” He waved his hands in a nonchalant manner as he saw her shoulders tense. “Hey, don’t have that look, I’m not going to pry in your family matters. It’s none of my business.”

Seeing her surprise, Tsuna confirmed the odd signs he’d been seeing around the house over the past few days. Japanese people held cultural conservatism in high regard, but this wasn’t a showcase of culture, it was years of repressed emotions manifested into red flags. He knew that being an adult male wasn’t exactly the stereotypical picture of kindness and empathy but the way they reacted with awe or surprise when he acted upon the simplest gestures couldn’t help but worry him. It wasn’t even once or twice, but for _ everything_. Helping around the house, cleaning, cooking, taking care of Natsuo, talking respectfully?? If it was just Natsuo maybe he would’ve thought he was just a timid kid in general. But Yuki, Fuyumi, and the staff here also acted in a similar manner. Quiet and subdued; trying their hardest not to be noticed.

_ “It doesn’t seem like physical abuse, more so neglect and psychological. If the youngest and their mother are in the main house like Natsuo said, then it could mean that their father clearly picks favourites."_

He could already feel the anger bubbling beneath his skin.

_ “To neglect your own children, three of them no less! If Quirks are hereditary, it can be like flame purity marriages. Fire for the father and ice for the mother. Considering that only the youngest seem to possess two Quirks...They’re basically used as breeding projects. Disgusting. You’d think such practices would be outlawed.” _

His own father may have been neglectful but at least he tried not to use his own blood for the mafia. He, at least, had the mental capacity to keep them away from his underground dealings (until the inevitable of course).

If there was one good thing that came out of being an overpowered mafia boss, with the Vindice themselves owing him favours, it was that he could enforce some damn morals into that trauma-inducing hellscape. The first thing was enforcing a better system for consequences. Having the Acrobaleno and Millefiore on his side definitely made it so that justice could be served no matter where one ran off to. Many feared his power, he did at times as well. But he’s who the mafia forced into this role and hell if he’s going turn a blind eye just to keep up “traditions”.

Did it always work out? No. Did corrupt governments make the job any easier? Also no. But did he manage to save some innocent people from the mafia? Well, if the lowered percentage of coerced child soldiers were any indication, he’s damn sure he’s made some changes for the better.

“I am here!” Natsuo announced, holding out a bag as he hopped over the door’s threshold. “—with ice cream!”

He took two big leaps towards the two, handing them their favourite flavours. Tsuna thanked the boy as he unwrapped the treat, patting him on the head. Fuyumi looked apprehensive, unsure if being so informal in front of a guest was okay. Gaining a little confidence as the other two showed no hesitation in enjoying themselves, she joined them.

“So Cielo showed me his Quirk, right?” Natsuo said already halfway finished his ice cream. “He’s like Shoto; he can use fire and ice but, like, _ way _cooler. He defeated villains with so many Quirks. Did you know a lot of people in Italy have multiple Quirks?”

“Having multiple Quirks is rare,” she told him slightly confused, side glancing Tsuna.

“I know! But he told me and he’s from Italy!”

_ “No I didn’t!” _Tsuna screamed in his head behind a calm facade.

Natsuo had asked for some hero stories and he told some vague renditions of his previous fights. If he’d known that meant Natsuo misunderstanding his words to place assumptions as facts for an entire race, he would’ve shut his mouth! God, everything thing came down to the extremes with Heroes and Quirks, didn’t it?

Tsuna coughed, grabbing their attention.

“I’ve only been with my close associates and due to my line of work, having multiple Quirks is somewhat natural,” he swiftly explained, “I haven’t been to all of Italy so it was a mistake on my part for the misunderstanding.”

_ “Ahh… _ okay. That makes more sense.”

Good. It looks like he avoided suspicion.

Natsuo, with puffed cheeks, stared incredulously at him. He didn’t know why the hero was suddenly so shy but he wouldn’t allow his awesomeness to be left unheard!

“I didn’t even mention the best part!” he proudly exclaimed, missing Tsuna’s widening eyes. “He told me that he made friends with super high ranking villains and turned them into heroes!”

“You… reform high profile villains?” she said disbelievingly, wondering how the hero-villain system worked in Italy. “Into heroes? Do heroes really have that responsibility? Is that even legal?”

_ Oh, God, smite me now. _ “I didn’t reform them, exactly. It was more so that the circumstances that led to our battle and subsequent aftermath allowed us to be… working acquaintances. Some of them aren’t even villains but were manipulated into crime or vigilantes.”

“Are vigilantes not illegal in Italy?”

Tsuna hummed, quietly processing the information. _ “Are vigilantes classified into villains by default? Wait, degrees of vigilantism is illegal almost everywhere.” _ He really became comfortable in his role, didn’t he? _ “I guess this means that “villain” is an umbrella term; not a specific criminal classification.” _

“Of course vigilantism is dangerous but most do it out of goodwill, no?” He shrugged. “If not then, of course, as an underground hero, I deal with them accordingly.” Yes, _ swerve _around that conversation topic!

Natsuo squinted his eyes, scrutinizing Tsuna, chewing on his icecream stick in frustration. He didn’t understand why the man didn’t flaunt his abilities! All pro heroes were flashy, right? With his Quirk, he could easily be within the top ten ranking heroes in Japan!

Wait… of course! He was an underground hero! To be honest, he didn’t know much about them but from what he’s heard, they were highly secretive. They couldn’t share information with people freely! He was so stupid!

He gasped, hands flying to his mouth._ “I told the others about Cielo’s Quirk!” _ he thought, his guilty conscious chiding him for potentially placing his hero in danger. _ “B—But it should be okay, right? He didn’t look mad when I asked about his Quirk or told Fuyumi about it...” _

He gave quick side glances at Tsuna, unable to meet his eyes with the guilt heavy in his gut.

It really was a shame someone like Cielo was an underground hero. In his eyes, Tsuna’s flashy Quirk was much better suited for the spotlight. He didn’t see the limits of his power but from spending a few days with him, Tsuna instantly became his number one hero. All Might not included, of course.

He observed Tsuna as if in a trance, their conversation becoming nothing but white noise as he recollected the memory of their first meeting. His cool cape, amazing Quirk, incredible speed and power...

_ “If I had that kind of Quirk maybe I could even beat—"_

He stopped that train of thinking right there. He’s seen his father’s fire firsthand. The only person strong enough to beat him was All Might. Cielo may have been kind and powerful but only someone as strong and heroic as All Might could beat him.

For Natsuo, being a Todoroki, being a child of Endeavor was like being stuck at the bottom of a deep hole with raging waterfalls crashing around him. It never touched him, the water circling around him, imprisoning him on the makeshift island. Loud and imposing, he tried to cover his ears and close his eyes to pretend that it wasn’t there but ultimately nothing he did could beat the deafening roar of the water. He tried to scream for help but his voice was drowned out by the waves. He had tried time and time again to climb up, thinking that perhaps it was his fault for being stuck in there. But seeing the top was impossible, let alone trying to escape.

Occasionally, in his little dark hole, he could see glimpses of the radiant sun. Something the water couldn’t hope to touch. When he realized that, staying in here felt a little better. But the sun couldn’t stay forever. And like a one-way mirror, he didn’t dare to cling onto the hope that the sun could see him. No. Now, he could only be content with where he was. It was the best he could hope for. At least the ground was dry and the waves avoided him. It was there, looming over him, but at least it didn’t sweep him up and drown him as it had done with Toya.

But in his hopeless efforts to see the sun, perhaps he forgot to see what always watched over him. Perhaps this time, he could look up at the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuyumi is back! Although she won't get as much time dedicated to her as Natsuo, she'll still be a central side character
> 
> Thank you for the kudos, bookmarks, hits, and all the wonderful comments!


	6. An Invitation

“Excuse me?”

Yuki heard the man on the other side of the line try to hold back a sigh. “Please understand that he's _not_ a patient man. Endeavor has requested to meet the Sky Hero: Cielo for business. Please notify him and send him to our office as soon as possible—within the end of the week would be ideal.”

_Would be ideal,_ he says. Like he even gave her—or him for that matter—a choice.

“I’ll… send a car his way. But whether he agrees to this or not is his choice.”

“Yes but Endeavor _ himself _has requested this.” A threat and a plea. “We’ve already notified his hero agency and it'd be most logical if you send him our way.”

Yuki was not a combative woman—compared to Rei maybe—and her entire family preferred to be passive observers. Though that was a double-edged sword. On one hand, because of her sister’s, what she'd call, sacrifice, their family was well off and living in the most affluent neighbourhoods without any financial troubles. But on the other hand, their passivity allowed for the rift in their family.

But it was too late to go back. Things got too complex now. Words couldn't express the years of subtle and slow suffering. How could one just simply escape an estranged, abusive marriage with the number two hero and four children tying them together? Not that she blamed the children or her sister! This was just a fucked-up situation that was out of her hands now. Perhaps if she was more assertive back then, Rei would be home and happy with a caring husband and children who were—and felt—loved.

Now she had another choice to make. It wasn't as big but it still involved Enji. And hell if she would allow someone uninvolved to be used again. Cielo brought something into this household only an outsider could bring: hope. As cliche and childish it sounded, the man helped Natsuo, and to a lesser extent, Fuyumi. Their household always had a dark cloud hanging over them, like fog, all-encompassing and ever-present. It didn’t suffocate you instantly, it was slow and meticulous, claustrophobic and stifling. Cielo, in that sense, was like a ball of light in an endless stream of fog, a reminder that their situation wasn’t endless; that there were people existing in a place without this fog.

But even a traveller with a flashlight could get lost in the woods. He just a reminder of what was beyond the family, _not_ a solution. And Yuki highly doubted one person could just appear and make years of trauma and neglect disappear.

But he was still _ there_, he was guiding them—especially Natsuo. Fuyumi, by a miracle, had her own guiding lights; her strong ambitions and good friends. Natsuo didn’t. He was much too young to see over the wall of heroes and he lacked a strong support system outside the family. Still, the children would need time and care to completely escape this place but even the flickering embers of the lantern's light was welcomed.

So, for Enji to take away this beacon for the children? To only care when it benefits him? How _ dare _he.

“Considering that Cielo is an underground hero, I fail to see why my brother-in-law”—she hated using that formality but pressing status was a good way to gain superiority—“would want to see him. If he needs him for a mission he can contact him through the _ proper _way, the hero association.”

She smirked at the long pause over the phone. This secretary probably never dealt with someone who defied _ The Endeavor _before. She only felt a little sympathy for the man, he was just doing his job. But so was she. She didn’t raise the children by just obediently rolling over whenever he ordered her around.

“Ma’am you _ need _to understand,” he pressed, “Endeavor has a right to his privacy even from his own family.”

_Hah!_ Probably not to garner attention from the media if something went wrong, more like.

“I’m wondering how you even managed to locate him. He _is_ an underground hero after all. He isn’t one to notify the presses. And certainly, we know that there's currently no one in this household that'd spread the location of an underground hero.”

“Then I’d like to refer you to an article in _ Quirks on Location,"_ he said in a smug tone, "they happened to capture the very moment of his fight. And although the shot isn’t quite ideal, you’d be surprised at technology these days.”

She did. She did see it. It was one of the contributing factors as to why she allowed Cielo to stay here. But she didn’t think Endeavor would’ve bothered to see some local news site.

The photo, taken at a zoomed-in low angle, was indeed blurry from the sheer speed his actions had—his face just barely being visible. In fact, hidden under his cloak, Natsuo’s face was somehow clearer than his. Fuyumi, thankfully, wasn’t it the shot. From what she’s heard from Cielo, she didn’t want to see what happened—much less seeing her injured niece exploited for the consumption of the mass media.

And his Quirk… His Quirk was _ massive. _Bursts of dark orange fire roared out from his hands, the photo perfectly timed to capture the pillars of ice sprouting from the flames. Yuki didn’t know how quick the man was to have melted such an enormous amount of ice as it was gone in the next frame.

“One of our business associates informed us of Endeavor’s son singing his praises throughout his stay. Including the fact that he’s been there for about a week now. Is it so hard to believe that Endeavor would want to thank the hero who saved his children personally?” _Yes._

She didn’t believe him for a moment that Enji of all people wanted to meet Cielo just to "thank" him. No, this was a cover for something. But what?

“I’ll inform him but as I said before, the choice is his. I’m merely his host during his stay, not his secretary. If you’d like a definitive answer, please go through the proper channels. Good day, sir.”

“Wait—”

_ Click_. _ Click._

She placed the phone back into its holder, making sure the recorded conversation was saved in a safe place. She couldn’t see the entire picture but this was all she could do for now. At least if something went wrong there would be evidence.

She may have feared directly defying Enji for her sister’s and the children’s sake but he was a fool to think if he thought she cared so little for others that she’d sacrifice _ their _hero.

Yuki made her way to Tsuna’s room, repeating apologies in her head about involving him in their family drama. She was sure that even a man, no, especially a man like Enji would not bring overt harm to another hero unless he had a legitimate reason. But she’d seen the men that surrounded that man. Slimy investors of the hero association, backdoor politicians, and violent fanatics. He didn’t reciprocate their attention (though his agency might’ve with the first) or even with good, whole-hearted people like Cielo. Bottom line, he _ never _called for another hero. He never had a need to.

So if not for himself then...

_ “...Shoto?” _

  
  


“He asked for me?” Tsuna said, taking a sip of his tea.

When he was asked to come to Yuki’s meeting room, he half-expected to get scolded for indulging in Natsuo’s sugar addiction; not to be given a business invitation by a high-ranking hero.

Yuki nodded. “Please feel free to decline.”

That was quick. “I don’t mind, but may ask why?”

A brief flash of disgust flew by her face. “He said it was for business, I’m sorry but you’ll have to get in contact with them due to _ privacy _issues.”

He raised his brow at her odd tone. “I see.”

For “business”? Can you _ get _any more vague than that? Jeez, from the way this household was acting over the past week, he wondered if in this universe the hero world was basically the mafia equivalent to his. Or maybe all systems of power were corrupt and had backdoor dealings, who knows?

Still, to accept or not? The latter was looking more favourable especially since Yuki hinted at him to decline. He just wanted a vacation without someone trying to bother him, dammit! Was that too much to ask? But his hyper intuition was urging him to agree. Something about this situation was too… wrong? Suspicious? Not in a way that would kill him—for once—but almost as if everything that happened was coded for some other hidden objective.

He’d be lying if he'd said he wasn’t curious. He knew his Flames were powerful but this was a national hero, right? So it definitely wasn’t because he was interested in his power. He probably had plenty of powerful people hounding him for notoriety. It couldn’t be to thank him judging from the children’s reactions from the mere mention of their parents. And Tsuna doubted that this was just some miscommunication between generations. Kids processed information differently but misunderstanding their parents' actions definitely wasn’t the issue here. And he always tried to reserve judgement upon others when he hadn’t met them yet but…

Tsuna sighed. It be _so _easy to ignore this. Just stay here and play with the kids until his famiglia managed to fix the machine. But his life was never easy, was it? No, his life was a clusterfuck speeding down a hill with supernatural powers and murderous people wanting to kill him for his mere existence. This may have been the first time in a long while since he could actually _ choose _what to do and what happens? His damn hyper intuition betrays him! That bastard, he was supposed to be on his side!

_ Ugh,_ groaned clicking his tongue.But it'd be good to make a few powerful connections just in case anything happened while he was here. It was one of the first things Reborn taught him: either make good alliances or shut them up for good.

Damn it, he really couldn’t escape his duties, could he?

“I’m... interested,” he said, swirling his cup, “I’ll be at his office two days after my leave. I need to visit my agency first.”

“Of course.”

His eyes flashed a deep orange for a second. “Is there something wrong?”

Her eyes widened a fraction before returning to her normal, calm facade. “No.”

She took a sip of her tea, staring at it contemplatively. She _ really _didn’t want him to accept, did she? She took another sip before looking up at him.

“One thing you should know about Endeavor is that he’s a man known for his _ power _first and foremost.” Her tone took on a sense of urgency that contrasted heavily to her calm voice.

And Tsuna had to bite back a laugh.

“Or so you’ve mentioned before,” he said amused, “thank you for worrying but those types of people don’t scare me anymore. I’ve met people who’d shoot me on sight.”

Xanxus was one such person. Though he’s mellowed out considerably throughout the years—in Varia standards—the man seemed to get a kick out of flexing on him every chance he got. Like when he shot him during the annual Vongola Christmas Gala. Or like when he shot him during their monthly meeting. Or like when he accidentally passed him in the hallway. Or when he decided to take Natsu around the Varia headquarters for the first time and Bester intimidated his poor companion by chasing him down until their Flames burned out. To this day, Tsuna wondered if it was because he formed the bond back when he was still his pathetic middle school self, but Natsu somehow retained his wimpy demeanour outside of combat. Hell, he _ still _couldn’t take out Natsu around Xanxus or Bester unless it was in a fight!

Yuki, seeing the various troubled faces of Tsuna recollecting his memories, poured him another cup. “Life as an underground hero must be quite difficult.”

“It is,” he sighed, downing the entire cup.

Well, just take out the “hero” part and replace it with “mafia don”. At least with this status, no one would question him about the odd things he said when he "accidentally" complained about his life.

Yuki took a look at the clock mounted onto the wall, seeing that it was already far into the night.

“I won’t keep you any longer.” She placed her cup down, bowing a little. “Please have a good night.”

Tsuna bowed his head, getting up. “You too,” he said as he left.

“I’ve never seen you so involved with someone outside the family.”

Yuki opened her eyes to meet Fuyumi’s smile. “Really? I wouldn’t call myself extroverted but I’m not _that_ cold.”

She closed the door behind her, sitting across from her aunt. “I’ve seen you verbally_ destroy_ one of dad’s business partners before he could even step a foot into the house.”

“Only to those who deserve it. Even _ I _have my limits.”

She let out a small chuckle. “Anyways, is that really a good idea? I mean, he’s not family so he doesn’t have to go." She looked back at the door as if he was still standing there. "I’m worried for him. I’ve never heard of dad asking for someone before. Does Natsuo know this?”

“Eavesdropping, were you?” She shook her head. “I’m trying to keep everything related to that man away from him. I don’t want to cause him unnecessary feelings. He doesn’t need that. All he needs to do is be a child.”

Fuyumi placed her chin into her palm with her other hand holding her elbow, in thought. She’s kept many secrets about their family away from her little brother to preserve his childlike naivety. She didn’t like it but what was the point in telling such things to a child? Besides, her aunt was right. She didn't need her younger brother to be burdened with their family business like she was—like Toya was.

Yuki gave her a knowing look. “It’s just a suspicion of mine but I think it’s because of Shoto.”

“Shoto?” Fuyumi said unconvinced. “I doubt it. You know how much he shelters him.”

“You’re not wrong but from what I’ve heard”—_f__rom your mother—_“is that he’s looking for someone to train his Ice Quirk.” _ Apparently Rei wasn’t enough. Was he going to break him too? _

“I thought mom was teaching him? She was hellbent on that,” she said mumbled bitterly. “Remember when dad tried to get him a tutor and she was so adamant on teaching him _ herself _ ? I’ve _ never _seen her more passionate about _anyone_ else.”

As the words left her mouth, Fuyumi bit her lips and glanced down, feeling ashamed at her own tone. They didn’t deserve that, this bitterness. She loved her baby brother but it was no secret that she felt a bit envious of him. It was the same dark feelings she harboured before Natsuo’s fourth birthday. Don’t get her wrong, she knew that it wasn’t even his fault! And she tried to suppress it too! She knew it was selfish and childish of her to think this way.

But with that said, she, being the second eldest and a failed Todoroki, her mother rarely had time for her anymore. She saw her maybe once a week? Maybe less? The last time she saw her all they did was look at each other in passing. They may have been living in the same house but ever since Shoto’s fourth birthday, her mother had been shutting herself in more and more with each passing day.

“_Was,_” Yuki emphasized, “you have to remember that. Things change. Your mother...changed.”

She placed her hand over Fuyumi’s and squeezed it, giving her a sympathetic look. It begged her not to resent her sister, but also knew that if she did, she understood why.

“I can’t say for certain why, but all we know is that _ he _always sought to make Shoto surpass him.” —_r__egardless of anyone or anything—_was left unsaid but understood.

Fuyumi took a deep breath. “Okay… Okay,” Fuyumi repeated more resolutely. “If dad is really calling for him because of Shoto, I’ll be in the house. He can’t cut off a grown independent adult from the rest of the world. And if anything happens to mom or Shoto I'll know.”

She didn’t know what she could possibly do as damage control when it involved her father and her youngest brother, but it wasn’t as if she’s never covered for her family before.

“I wish he would’ve just rejected,” Fuyumi sighed, “for himself at least.”

Yuki agreed, “I still do wonder why he’s interested since he told me himself that he didn’t know of Endeavor. And he doesn’t seem like a person to vie for status.”

“W— Wait.” Fuyumi blinked owlishly. “He didn’t know dad was the number two hero in Japan? Is that even _ possible_?”

“I didn’t know it was a possibility either.” She shook her head. “Anyways, enough of that. Did you need anything? I doubt you were here just to spy on us.”

“Oh..." It was clear that she wanted to say more. Instead, she controlled herself and buried it. "I just came by to tell you about that school trip I’m going in a few weeks. Planning and all that,” she replied, explaining the details of the trip.

As Fuyumi started to talk about her excursion, Natsuo slowly pulled his ear away from the door and headed towards his room in silence. He stayed close to the wall as not to alert anyone of his presence, thinking about his father’s invitation to his hero.

When he first overheard his aunt talking about it, he didn’t give it much thought. He tried to purge all connections with Endeavor after all. His father never cared for him and in the first four years where he showed mild interest, he couldn’t recall if he’d ever even shown up to his room. Both his aunt and sister were quite protective of him, not that he needed that, really. Perhaps if he had good memories of the man, he would’ve appreciated their concern. You couldn't miss what you never had after all. He was intimidated by him, feeling that it was his fault for not meeting up to his father’s expectations. Sometimes. He had those thoughts on occasion when he couldn’t do anything but stare at the ceiling from his bed. But usually, they were buried between his contempt and apathy for the man. He didn’t care about him to share anything except blood and financial aid—both of which were mandatory. 

That was the issue. At first, he felt that it was odd, but nothing he should involve himself in. Everyone came and went. Nothing special. There was one time, in the past, he got involved and let's just say, it didn’t end well. He was just glad that his older brother and sister were there for him. But the more he heard, and the more he thought about it, the colder his sweat became.

His father wasn’t the sharing type. Whatever he wanted, he got whether that meant through status or brute force, it didn’t matter. He was like a dragon hoarding everything—his mom, his younger brother, his family. So if he took away Cielo too, would he never see him again? They said something about how outsiders to the family always had a choice.

But Cielo had accepted. They always do.

A small part of him felt that it was unfair for someone, not even blood related, was allowed to meet his father,when _ he, _ his biological _son_, hadn’t talked to him in years. The bigger and stronger part of him was scared for Cielo. He wasn’t the first hero he’s met that was nice to him and worried about him—plenty of heroes did that. He didn’t have the strongest Quirk either—that was All Might. He wasn’t even the first person he had to part with—that was his family.

But he was the first one to **stay**.

Auntie had her own life as an adult, Fuyumi had her friends and was on the crisp of adulthood, and Toya had already grown up and left. Everyone had a sense of "another home". Somewhere else they belonged; somewhere else they would _return _to. To him, Cielo was an adult but still felt like someone who, if asked, would stay with him. At least until he became an adult as well. Someone who he didn’t feel guilty about asking to stay, someone who didn’t have secrets to “protect” him, someone who was genuinely happy and content to be with him.

An adult, yet so unlike one.

Still lost in thought, he stood in front of his room, and slid the door open not realizing that his feet had led him to another’s. He snapped out of his thoughts as he saw the flickering of orange light—no—lion?

As the lion ceased its purring, a startled Tsuna stared widely at his unexpected guest.

“N—Natsuo?”


	7. A Letter

Natsu purred, melting at his partner’s warm fingers combing through his soft orange mane, eliciting a chuckle from the man. He was draped over Tsuna's lap like an oversized cat, tail sweeping back and forth on the floor. His paws circled Tsuna’s idle arm, rubbing his face in bliss and playfully biting on it.

It’d been too long since he had this much attention from him. Back home, it was always one thing or the other: the mafia, hitmen, raids, fights, their scary mentor, their crazy guardians, Uri being mean, the Varia, _Bester_… But! After arriving in this strange new world, it had been nearly a week of nothing but relaxed grooming—or heaven in his opinion. Granted it was only during the late hours in brief increments but at least it was consistent.

“Enjoy this while it lasts,” Tsuna chuckled, getting under his chin. “We only have a few more days until work catches up to us again.”

_“Gao...”_ he grumbled, flicking his tail in annoyance. _ Don’t remind me—_he seemed to say.

“Don’t get sassy with me, mister!” he teased, squishing his toe beans. “You’re always so bratty when no one else is around.”

He gave him a quick glance as if to say, “but _ you’re _here aren’t you?”

Tsuna sighed affectionately. “You’re so spoiled.”

Natsu stuck his tongue out at him before nibbling on his fingers.

Suddenly he stopped, his ears flickering. _Soft footsteps. No malicious intent. Not mafia?_

Tsuna rose a brow, wondering why Natsu stopped purring until—

“N—Natsuo?” Tsuna stared wide-eyed at the sudden appearance of said boy, his hand gripping the frame of the door as if to ground himself in reality._"I've got way too relaxed..."_ Tsuna chastised himself._ "But usually I would've heard footsteps..."_

The boy in question froze, mouth agape, owlish eyes locking onto Natsu. In which the latter jumped a foot into the air and quickly scrambled to hide behind Tsuna.

_ “Gao!” _

“_Ack! _Natsu, you—” Tsuna yelled, fumbling to catch him.

“I—Is that a lion,” Natsuo stuttered as he pointed to the animal hiding behind his hero, “on _ FIRE!? _”

“Natsuo!” Tsuna cried, failing to address him welcomingly as a panicked Natsu used his back as a springboard, clawing his way under the safe haven of his partner's mantle nestled in the corner of the room. “_Cazzo! _For the love of—!”

Tsuna lifted his mantle off the floor, exposing him. Natsu hunched in surprise, shooting him one of the dirtiest looks a lion could muster. Tsuna, in return, merely stared back like a disappointed mother looking at her son trip over himself in front of a guest for the third time.

“You’re not a cub anymore," he mumbled, "Aren’t you embarrassed?”

“I— I’m sorry,” Natsuo stuttered, “should I— should I leave?” He bit his lips as he took a slow step back, mortified gaze landing on the floor.

“No, no. It’s fine,” Tsuna sighed as he rubbed his temples, unaware of Natsuo's movements. “Natsu isn't good with new people...or most people, actually.”

Natsu swiftly snagged his mantle right out of his hands and dove into his futon, sliding under the covers. Curled up in his little den, he observed the two humans, gnawing on his mantle. Seeing his partner slap his hand on his forehead brought him sadistic glee, fully aware that his Flame filled fangs could easily destroy the kevlar woven cloth. His tail waved smugly as if he dared his partner to make him interact with someone outside the immediate family.

Tsuna groaned as Natsu hooked one of his claws into the fabric. Looks like he was going to need a new mantle. Great! Can’t wait to tell Reborn and Leon that!

“You’re a piece of work.” Tsuna walked over to Natsu, petting him comfortingly over the blanket, respecting his desire to stay hidden. “We really have to work on this, you skittish kitty.”

Natsu purred, the outline of the blanket becoming more relaxed.

Seeing him calm, Tsuna stopped petting him and walked towards Natsuo, not missing the way he quickly back-stepped outside the boundaries of his room.

“Sorry about that.” He slid the door completely open and moved out of the way. “Come in.”

Natsuo swallowed, looking up at him with his chin to his chest, weaving his hands. “S— So you’re not mad?”

Tsuna smiled reassuringly, crouching down so he was at eye level with the him.

It wasn’t like he was angry at Natsu, it was just how they both spoke to one another—affectionate exasperation, he called it. His tone didn’t hold any maliciousness, nor did he think he spoke that loudly. But clearly that didn’t matter when the boy looked up at him as if he was going to redirect his “anger” on him.

“I wasn’t mad, not at him or you. I just didn’t expect Natsu to be startled _this_ badly. Promise.”

Tsuna rubbed his head awkwardly. He wasn’t as good as comforting others as his Rain was but even he knew his little outburst triggered something in Natsuo. He took a step back as not to suffocate him, eyes still on par with his.

Natsuo peeked over his shoulder, catching the lion’s glowing orange eyes. He flinched, quickly looking away.

“He’s not mad either, just shy," Tsuna reassured again, keeping a gentle smile on his face. "A silly little lion, isn't he? He’s like that with everyone. Do you want to meet him?”

_“Um...”_

Natsuo wrung his hands, shoulders loosening up a bit. He was just glad that his hero wasn’t in a bad mood. He’s never heard the man yell before. He didn't think it was possible. Cielo always had this calming aura around him—as if he was in control of every situation. But unlike his father, it wasn’t one of authority—one that _demanded_ respect and attention. His was like a guiding hand—knowing and dependable. So to see him fumble around and lose his composure for a second unnerved him.

“He’s a sweetheart once you get to know him.”

Nastuo observed his body movements. His shoulders weren't hunched. He wasn't tense. He smiled, a real one, not that angry smile hiding annoyance and frustration. He was a few paces away from him and didn't get closer, which he appreciated. His eyes were that beautiful orange colour he saw whenever Cielo seemed to talk to him. It felt comforting—like a sunset. The fire it held wasn't like his father's or older brother's. He wasn't looking down on him, both figuratively and literally.

And now that he thought about it, his voice wasn’t mean. Good heroes could never be mean. He was just surprised, not mad. Not mad at the lion or _ him_.

_"He's not like dad, he's not like dad, he's not like dad,"_ Natsuo kept reminding himself.

“Say,” Tsuna distracted, “what do you notice about him?”

“Notice?” Natsuo stared at the animal blinking back at him from under the covers.

“His fire,” he prompted.

“His fire— Oh! It’s not burning the blanket!” He gasped. “Your lion is on fire and he’s not burning anything!” He looked at him with wonder in his eyes. “He’s not burning anything! Is he like you? With the non-burny kind of fire? It’s a different colour though.”

Tsuna nodded, offering his hand, cheering inwardly. Bless Kyoko and Haru for giving him those childcare lessons!

“Want to pet him? Don’t worry he doesn’t bite.”

Natsuo reached for his hand but hesitated at the last second. “But he’s scared right?” He paused before his fingers gripped his. “I don’t want to scare him.”

This precious child. Were all non-mafia affiliated children this sweet?

“I promise he’s just jumpy around strangers.” If Natsu truly felt distraught over Natsuo’s presence he would’ve returned to his box.

Tsuna led Natsuo to the side of his bed, sitting down on the floor and exposing his palm to his partner. Natsu, peeling his eyes away from the boy, noticed Tsuna’s open palm through the small gap in the blanket, slowly emerging from his little den.

“See?” Tsuna said as Natsu rubbed his face on his hand, huffing and chuffing. “Nothing but a big spoiled cat.”

Natsuo swallowed his nerves. The lion seemed to stare into his soul, almost as if he knew something he didn’t. His tail swished from side to side, interested, yet neither one willing to make the first move.

Natsu blinked, perking up, finally recognizing the boy as the one he saved a while ago. The one that gave them their vacation! The good boy! A friend!

Natsu chuffed, lowering his head towards him. Encouraged by Tsuna's nod, Natsuo held his breath and stuck his hand in its flowing mane, trusting his word. As the flames licked his skin, he felt a rush of warmth spread throughout his body, the fiery mane weaving through his fingers like water. He released the breath he was holding, the nervous frown on his face perking up. 

“I didn’t know animals could have Quirks!” he whispered in awe as if it was some big secret. “Wait. He _ is _an animal, right? Not something with multiple Quirks? Or one of your Italian hero friends? You have similar Quirks so—”

He jerked his hand back as if he was scorched, Natsu whining at the loss of affection. “—have I been petting your brother!? Are you related? I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“Woah, _woah_!” Tsuna interrupted before he saw the boy’s head explode. “Take a deep breath. Natsu is really a lion”—technically speaking, he was the physical embodiment of his Flames—“and well, he’s special. His Quirk allows him to... change forms. Yes, to shapeshift.”

That should be general enough, right? If he needed Natsu in battle, that should cover most questions considering that people with multiple Quirks were uncommon. But then again, if someone saw a lion on fire the first question wouldn't be "what Quirk(s) does it have?" but, "THAT LION IS ON FUCKING _FIRE??"_

Well, now that brought up a slew of other questions, didn't it? Were animals with Quirks rare or nonexistent? Or was Natsuo's reaction credited to the fact that he was still young?

_Ugh._ These questions weren't what he usually dealt with considering the underground was full of Flame users. It'd be much easier if he didn't have to use Natsu in battle in the first place since he didn't want to bring too much attention to himself. But Spanner said that this world was full of powerful people and he wasn't one to risk a person's life for his own comfort. And considering his luck, or lack thereof, there was a high possibility that Natsu would be seen again in the foreseeable future.

Besides, if he didn't let Natsu out for battle every once in a while, he'd get antsy. It was the animal equivalent to being cooped up in a gilded cage except Natsu held higher intellegence and would burn those bars and the keeper to hell for the insult. The last time he excluded Natsu in a fight the lion hissed and scratched at him for _days_. It wasn't like he meant to but the enemy famiglia was really weak so he didn't need to bring him out. He was trying to give his partner a break! But apparently he thought wrong and his bedsheets paid the price for that.

Reborn laughed at him and on that day, the "let's mess with Tsuna" club welcomed another member.

_"Great,"_ he thought,_ "another thing I have to worry about. Did the previous Vongola bosses also have these problems or is this just a 'me' thing?"_

“He mimics anything?" Natsuo questioned. "Other Quirks too?”

_Damn it._ “Not everything?” he said unconvincingly.

Tsuna chose to ignore Natsu’s disappointed face scrutinizing him. Knowing him, he’ll spill the beans to Reborn and get him thrown back into Death Mountain for spouting lies. Not for the fact that he lied, no, that would be normal. It’d be for telling a _flimsy_ lie in an unconvincing manner.

...scratch that, nothing about this was normal.

“There are some complex rules to Natsu’s Quirk," he said with elaborate hand gestures, "but basically we’re connected in a symbiotic relationship.”

Natsuo titled his head. “What does that mean?”

“It means that”—he looked at Natsu for help only for the lion to betray him by sticking his tongue out in response—“we help each other out."

Hey! That stupid yet truthful excuse was better than: “Yeah, that lion I said was a lion? He isn’t really a lion. He’s the mix of Flames and science and if I don’t give him a steady supply of my Flames, one of the core life essences in my world, he’ll basically do the box animal equivalent of dying.”

"We’re connected like family," Tsuna concluded.

“Oh...” Natsuo whispered, a shadow looming over his face.

Tsuna and Natsu looked at each other in confusion. The latter crawled up to the boy, nudging his hand with his muzzle, gently licking his palms. Natsuo let the lion guide his hand back towards his mane, absentmindedly running his hand down his back.

“Are you okay? If it’s something I said, I’m sorry,” Tsuna apologized, giving them space so Natsu could comfort him, “can you tell me what made you sad? I’ll do my best to avoid it next time.”

Natsuo didn't say anything, pensively thinking about something. Meanwhile, Tsuna racked his brain in a panic. People killing him? He could deal with that. Reborn? Slightly harder but he could handle that too. But a sad kid? A kid so obviously traumatized looking sullen because of something _he_ did or said? That. _That_ he couldn't handle. What if he made him cry? He didn't want to make things worse!

Natsuo didn’t look up and if Natsu was a real lion, he would’ve yelped at the tightening fist in his mane. “Can… Can I show you something?” Natsuo finally said, reaching for Tsuna's hand.

He nodded in response, sharing a concerned look with Natsu.

Natsuo led Tsuna to his room, the two wordlessly walking through the halls illuminated only by the moon. Natsu had already returned to his box and when Tsuna thought of a clever excuse, he paused. Natsuo still had his eyes set on the floor, deep in thought. He didn't see that. He didn't see any of that. The boy who loved his Flames more than anyone he's ever met didn't see that. Just what the hell did he say that upset him so much?

_“Well, it can’t be too bad since he’s showing me something right?” _Tsuna reassured himself.

Upon arriving, Natsuo let go of his hand, swerving his head left and right before closing the door. Walking towards a large blue backpack leaning against a corner of his wall, he shot a glance towards Tsuna almost to confirm he was still here. Tsuna watched as he unzipped his rather plain-looking bag to take out...another bag? This one with noticeably more embellishments suited for a child. It had a picture of a large blonde man flexing on the front and looked as if the colours of the American flag vomited on the bag. Large capitalized words of “ALL MIGHT” were stitched right below the man, and if Natsuo didn’t explain to him about the relevance of the number one hero, he would’ve had some questions on this universe’s youth fashion choices.

As Natsuo unzipped the bag and shuffled through some of its contents to make sure everything was still there. Meanwhile, Tsuna just stared at the pearly whites of the, supposedly, most important and powerful man in this universe.

Dear Lord, he didn’t think _ The _ All Might would look this… gaudy? I mean, he didn’t want to judge the man solely on appearances but having been around Reborn and his “if you wear an ugly baby blue shirt ever again I’ll fucking end you” speeches, All Might's style in attire was… a little _ too _wild for him. Tsuna supposed it was normal in a world where heroes were a real thing—you know, typical American comic book attire. At least the man could pull it off. He couldn't even begin to imagine the mortification of wearing a bright tricoloured spandex suit in public (it might even be worse than the first time he met Reborn!).

Not that he showed any of this to Natsuo. If the boy liked this hero, he was all for it. I mean, if this man was a symbol for these kids, and the number one hero unanimously agreed upon by the entire world, he couldn’t be any worse than their neglectful parents.

Natsuo placed the bag in front of him, patting the ground, signalling him to sit beside him. He did.

“This is a secret from everyone, okay?” Natsuo whispered as he pulled out the contents of his bag.

First, he took out a few laminated cards signed by “nice and cool heroes,” as he told him. He nudged an empty card into his hands, handing him an orange, yellow, and black marker. Tsuna, slightly surprised, took the pen and signed his hero name, _ Cielo_, in beautiful cursive. Seeing the boy perk up a bit, Tsuna winked at the boy, twirling the pen for finesse. Tsuna raised a finger which made Natsuo pause as he made grabby hands for the paper.

“Watch this,” Tsuna said as he turned the card towards him.

Reborn would probably kill him for this, but he wasn’t here right now. This would be future Tsuna’s problem.

He shot a small stream of Flames to his hand, the tip of his index finger lighting a small ball of Sky Flames. He placed his lit finger on his signature, the Flames crawling through the ink like a wick until orange Flames spelled his name. He blew on it, just to show that the Flames couldn't be extinguished. Handing the paper over to Natsuo, he chuckled at the boy's widening eyes and gaping mouth, tracing his fingers over the lit signature in disbelief. He held the paper in both hands, holding it up to the light before hugging the piece of paper like it was his most prized possession. He could see a slight red dust on his chubby cheeks, beaming, before tackling him in a hug.

“Thank you,” he whispered into his chest, hands grabbing a fistful of his shirt.

Tsuna patted his head, before asking about his little collection. Natsuo, who made himself comfortable in his lap, pulled the bag closer to him—considerably happier now—and explained his collection. There were some autographs from the nicer heroes he'd met, or lived with, in their summer home. He recognized a few of them from the news or when Natsuo gushed about them: All Might, Crimson Riot, Godzillo (did Godzilla exist in this world too? If so, he wondered if there were any intellectual property lawsuits), Ectoplasm, Snatch, and Edgeshot. There were also some collectables such as gachas or trading cards of various heroes which only solidified his assumptions on how heroes and celebrities were one and the same. Some wristbands, badges, pins, and—

Was that an embroidered autograph made of _ denim?? _

“This one’s from Best Jeanist,” Natsuo explained as if that cleared any of Tsuna’s confusion. “It was from when he won the ‘Best Jeanist’ Award”—_What???—_“I came really late so he didn't have enough material to use so he used a part of his costume! He used a part of his sleeve! Isn't that awesome?!”

Not a single part of his explanation cleared up any part of his confusion. In fact, he ended up with even more questions.

“It’s a really nice collection,” Tsuna said, moving on.

Natsuo nodded. “It’s my secret stash of hero stuff. It’s usually in my secret place at home but I always bring it with me on trips.”

“Can I ask why? It's completely fine if you don't want to answer,” he quickly added.

Natsuo opened his mouth and closed it, toes curling and uncurling. Tsuna patiently waited for him to give his answer as Nastuo battled two thoughts in his head.

Finally, after a long stretch of silence, Natsuo licked his lips nervously before answering, “Dad… Dad doesn’t like other heroes. Or he doesn't care about them. I think he’s okay with working with some of them since he runs a hero agency but I don't know if he likes them. Especially...”—he pointed towards the bag with All Might on it—“he doesn't like us keeping things like this around the house. He doesn't care about us but he cares about this. I don’t want him to find it. It’s _mine_. Toya told me to get rid of it before he left but I don't wanna. He said it was dangerous keeping ‘physical evidence’ but it’s _ mine! _It’s not my fault I can keep things more secretive than him.”

He pouted, squeezing his fingers around Tsuna's hand. "He's always like that! Always keeping secrets but always telling _me_ not to keep any. Just because he's an adult it doesn't mean he can boss me around. It's not fair. Just because_ he_ burned everything he had it doesn't mean_ I_ should too."

He let go with a sigh, that solemn look coming back to his face. “I just want things for _me_. I don’t want to rely on dad. I want to be like Toya and grow up and leave. Fuyumi is lucky. She’s almost a grown-up but she doesn’t want to leave,” he said with a slight bitterness in his tone.

“I’m sure things are more complicated than that,” Tsuna said trying to defend his sister. Most situations like these were.

Natsuo looked up at him in silence before playing with his loose cuff. He retreated further towards him, both hands grabbing his shirt in a vice as if his weight could anchor him here.

“Are you… Are you really going to the main house?" he mumbled. "To meet my dad?”

Tsuna raised a brow. “How did you know?”

“I overheard auntie and Fuyumi talking about it. So are you really going to see my dad?”

“...I am.”

“Why?” he asked with force behind his words.

Good question. “It’s for hero business. I’m not sure why your father wants to see me either but I’m curious, I guess. Why? Do you not want me to go?”

Natsuo sighed defeatedly, nodding. “I don’t want you to go— I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay with us forever.”

“That’s a nice thought,” Tsuna said with a sad smile. “But I’ll have to leave eventually.”

He shook his head. Almost as if, if he denied it, his wish would come true. “I want to come with you.”

“Maybe when you’re older. I can’t just take you, you know?” That would be kidnapping.

“Then... can I come visit your hero agency? You have one here right? Not just in Italy?” he cried in more desperate tones.

“I do but I’m not sure how long I’ll stay here”—_i__n this universe, _ was left unsaid—“but it’s not like I’ll be leaving right away. We still have a week. Why not ask your aunt if you can come—”

Natsuo whined, shaking his head and crossing his arms. “I don’t want to go back,” he whispered.

Tsuna winced. “Sorry, I didn't mean to sound insensitive.”

A thick air surrounded the room, Tsuna racking his brain for any way to make the boy feel better. What did he do when he fought with Lambo or I-pin? Well, usually kept his cool. This was different, he made him sad. What did he do when they were sad? Say he’s sorry? No, apologizing would be redundant. Give some treats? No, it wasn’t even his. His Flames? At this point, showing him his Flames to distract him seemed inconsiderate. Maybe he should bring out Natsu again? 

“If you’re going, can I do something for me?” Natsuo said, breaking the silence.

“Of course,” Tsuna replied immediately, thankful.

Natsuo got off his lap, packing his collection back into his All Might bag and hiding it in the plain blue backpack. Then, he walked over to his desk and took out a few blank pieces of paper and some pens. Tsuna got off the floor, peeking over the boy’s back to see what he was doing. Natsuo took two coloured pencils—blue and red—colouring the white paper in abstract scribbles only a child could decipher the meaning of. After he was finished, he placed the markers back into their original place, trading them for a plain blue mechanical pencil.

“I wanted to be a hero like dad too,” Natsuo said suddenly as he started to write, “once.”

His fingers strangled the neck of his pencil at the memory of him running up to his father, with hope and a need for approval dancing on his tongue. The memory was fresh in his mind: the _thump _of his feet as he saw his father, the anticipation building with each step he took. Gentling cradling the mishappen sculpture he poured his heart into, he came up to his stern father hoping to turn that frown into a smile.

_Dad! —_he cried—_Dad, look what I made! It’s an ice copy of your_ fire!—stupidly he continued, ignorant of his father's growing irritation—_I showed it Fuyumi and she said it looked really good! Toya laughed at me though… but then I... but… I... _

All he got were those _ eyes. _

Loosening his grip, he tried to chase those clingy memories away and continued writing. “I asked him about his Quirk. I just thought if I could learn about it, I could also…” He took a deep breath and sighed, shaking his head. “I was _idiotic _for asking something like that. I was better than my older brother, at least, but I’m not even as _resilient _as my sister. I said that I could train with mom but then I would be _bothering _her.”

Tsuna narrowed his eyes. Those were not a child’s words. It sounded _wrong _coming out of Natsuo's mouth. Those words weren't _his_.

“He’s wrong," Tsuna said trying to sound gentle instead of angry (at his father). "You’re not an idiot for wanting to be loved. Him, placing his own sense of worth on you like that—”

“It doesn't matter,” Natsuo replied emptily, eyes betraying his tongue, “I was born with the wrong Quirk. Sho… Shoto wasn’t.”

Tsuna narrowed his brows in worry. Weren’t Quirks hereditary? How could one’s Quirk be _ wrong? _

When Natsuo finished the note, he placed his pencil back into the cup. Tsuna watched as he folded the paper into triangles and then into diamonds until it became a perfectly folded origami crane. Natsuo cupped the little paper bird in his hands, staring at it contemplatively before unravelling it and folding it into a simple square.

“Dad doesn’t call anyone for anything unless it’s for _Shoto_.” Frustration. Worry. Envy. “Can you give this to them? To mom and Shoto? I don’t need it back, I just… want to see if you could reach them.”

Tsuna took the letter, staring at the ceases—the only evidence that remained of what it once used to look like—and carefully pocketed it.

“Does your dad restrict communication? Does he stop you from talking with them?”

Perhaps it was from the unpleasant memories resurfacing or because Cielo exuded an air of comfort but Natsuo couldn’t help but move his mouth faster past his apprehensiveness.

“Shoto always has his lessons from dad and mom… I don’t know. She doesn’t come outside anymore… at least, not when I’m there—” he whispered the last part “—and she's sick. That's what Fuyumi told me. And their rooms are past dad’s. I can sneak around the house but I don’t want to risk going near there.”

“Can I ask why you’re giving this to me? Why not your sister?”

He fiddled with the hem of his shirt. “It’s not like she can see them either.”

Tsuna took a deep breath. “I’ll... make sure to deliver this, promise.” He did his absolute best not to show any emotions besides reassurance.

Quickly, to change the subject, he glanced at his watch. “It’s late. Do you want to do anything else before bed?”

Natsuo, torn between his bedtime and spending more time with his hero, fidgeted. “C— Can you show me Natsu again? Just a little bit?”

Tsuna released a sigh of relief and ruffled his hair. “Sure. I'll show some cool tricks he can do too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn this story grew fast! Thank you for all the continued support and wonderful comments! I love readings your thoughts and occasional screaming lol
> 
> This chapter was more sombre but gave large insights to the Todoroki house—at least in Natsuo's perspective. Next chapter will focus a bit more on Fuyumi as Tsuna heads towards Musutafu


	8. Tsuna's Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This and the next chapter were supposed to be one chapter but it got too long. Next chapter will focus on Fuyumi!

A week went by quickly. After their initial meeting, Natsu became much closer to Natsuo—to the point where the lion would often sneak into his room and sit on him until he woke up. If Natsuo minded at all, he never showed it. Tsuna tried to stop his partner but arguing with a cat of any kind was useless. He even tried to restrict his Flame output but Natsu would screech from inside his box until he was let out. It wasn’t like Natsu didn’t know why Tsuna wanted to stop him. But secrecy and anonymity were human problems and he was a lion. Besides, if it seemed like he was losing an argument, Natsu would roll on his back and act cute to get out of his partner’s lectures. Although that might’ve worked on Hayato it certainly didn’t on him. _Certainly_.

If there was anything he and Natsu had in common was that they were stubborn to a fault; to Tsuna, it felt like a parent seeing their child picking up their bad habits. If they wanted something, nothing in this or any other universe was going to deter them from their goal. Tsuna absolutely loathed trying to get Natsu to do anything outside his comfort zone.

The only good thing that came out of this was Natsuo’s happiness which actually was a pretty big factor in Natsu’s favour. The two got along well—not that Tsuna was surprised. High purity Sky-Flames plus a cute little animal? Who could resist? 

Natsu, after attuning to a person, would become fiercely loyal and protective of them—a trait that he inherited from his partner. He stuck to Natsuo like glue whenever they were alone or with Tsuna; basking in attention from someone, especially a child, who didn’t try to fight, capture, or throw experimental explosives in a panic at him for once. Sometimes Tsuna would see the two chasing or playfully wrestling each other in the busier hours where the staff and the Todoroki household couldn’t see them. 

In the meantime, Tsuna was able to contact the Vongola often, updating them on his whereabouts and plans (or lack thereof). The Vongola, meanwhile, finally managed to get a hold of Byakuran.

“Tsukun!” he heard Byakuran shout energetically.

“Byakuran,” Tsuna replied neutrally.

How were his friends so hyper and animated all the time? He swore from the headaches and weird young adult muscle pains, they somehow sapped all his energy and made it their own.

Byakuran coyly chuckled as Tsuna imagined him sitting cross-legged on a swivel chair like a child. “_ So… _I heard from your little advisor that you went to another world. Did you find the Vongola of that world yet?”

Tsuna rose a brow. “Didn’t Shoichi brief you?”

“_Ehh..._ Shochan and Spanner aren’t allowed into their lab until they finish the ‘workplace safety’ training with your Storm.”

Tsuna spluttered, “H— _Hayato_ is leading a _safety_ workshop? How?”

Hayato definitely calmed down over the years but he never quite lost that hot-headed nature of his. This was like having one impulsive idiot teach other impulsive idiots how to meditate.

“Let's just say, your advisor has been _very_ happy lately.”

Tsuna sighed, slapping his hand on his forehead. “Of course,” he mumbled, “of course, it’s because of Reborn! That sadistic—”

“_ Oh. _ Please finish that sentence. We’re _ all _interested.”

Tsuna’s heart jumped through his throat. “I— Is he…?”

He snorted. No matter how many years had passed, no matter how much his dear friend matured, he was still such a fun person to tease.

“Nope!” Byakuran chirped as Tsuna let out a breath of relief. “But these calls _ are _recorded, you know?”

Tsuna took in a deep breath, his hands already in prayer position. “ I can sense my impending doom. This will probably be our last time talking. Tell my mom I love her. Tell my father to spend more time with her and if you want to punch him in the throat for last year’s Christmas incident for me that would be greatly appreciated. Tell the Vongola not to go full Secondo—we don’t need to add to our body count—and tell Enma I’m leaving all my earthly possessions to him.”

“Aww… Nothing for me?”

“You get to hear and deliver my will. Also to prevent Reborn from somehow chasing me into the afterlife.”

“I get responsibilities? You’re such a _ Seraph, _” he pouted.

“You can get the secret stash of sweets in the hidden compartment inside my desk. Second drawer on the left, press hard on the inner right corner and check the sides.”

Despite the fact that he and Byakuran often disagreed on the methodology of the mafia, he was one of the few people he could trust to joke around with. You know, to be a normal human with. 

“Will do!” he replied laughing. “Anyways. How’s the universe? Fitting in nicely?”

Well, as normal as two space-time manipulating mafia bosses could get.

“Kind of?" He scratched his cheeks. "I’m not sure about fitting in but I'm heading towards Vongola HQ soon. Can't escape duty forever. Oh! I’m also getting eight hours of sleep on average and I haven’t been attacked in two full weeks now so you tell me,” he said, grinning.

“What!? Lucky! That’s _so _not fair! Shochan!” His voice became more and more distant with each yell. “Shochan! I thought we were friends! Send me to the vacation universe! _ SHOCHAN!!! _”

With a useless, smug sense of pride, he turned the dial after hearing nothing but explosions and muffled laughter in the distance. 

“Two hours left,” Tsuna mumbled to himself.

He stretched and leaned back against the wall, staring amusedly through the window. Natsu had Natsuo standing on his back, his tattered cape haphazardly wrapped around his collar. Wherever Natsuo pointed towards, Natsu trotted to. Natsuo was definitely larger than Natsu but someone as small as him was practically weightless to an animal box creature. Frankly, Tsuna was more impressed at Natsuo’s balance. It wasn’t every day where someone could ride on the back of a lion like he was a skateboard.

Tsuna crossed his arms and smiled. He didn’t have any worries over being caught. Natsu was a creature made of pure Flames; his instincts and speed outmatched any normal human. If anyone came close, he would be able to hide without a hitch. But it was still a wonder how nobody heard their screaming and came out to check by now.

He twiddled his thumbs, satisfied but also a bit fidgety. Like he told Byakuran, he genuinely did enjoy being here. But having such a high-pressure life, this long break—_ peaceful _break—left him without much to do. When he got debriefed by Spanner, he expected non-stop villain attacks. Not that he wanted that, of course! It's just that, from his track record, something was bound to go wrong or weird. Although because of Reborn the latter was becoming more and more normal to him.

Anyways, bottom line, he just wanted to let out some steam. 

“Huh… Maybe that’s why I kept showing my Flames to him.” Flames were an extension of the user; suppressing it was like pausing one of your bodily functions. And he knew from experience that suppressing Flames, especially high-purity Flames like his, had dire consequences. So perhaps that's why he was so eager to show off his Flames to Natsuo? Besides trying to cheer him up of course.

He briefly wondered if this was how Natsu felt back then when he inhibited his fighting.

Tsuna mentally listed off all the things he needed to when he arrived at the base—hero agency. First, he needed to find the damn place. Unfortunately, the coordinates he gave Fuyumi were quite far from the actual location. Most underground hero agencies were hidden from the public (though not nearly hidden enough in his opinion) and contact came mostly through the hero association. That, and whatever Basil set up—whatever anyone in the Vongola set up—was bound to turn some heads. Fortunately, Tsuna trained with Reborn and any person, or thing, that survived his training was already a step above the rest. The agency was located in a fairly inconspicuous place. Musutafu city was overrun with hero agencies which meant high competition between agencies to become noticed. That was perfect—"hiding in plain sight" as they would say. Who would notice another grain of sand in a desert?

Afterwards, he had to establish a working relationship with his employees. He highly doubted Basil told them about the real Vongola considering he claimed his alias as an underground hero. Tsuna pinched the bridge of his nose already preparing himself for the mental hoops he had to go through during their conversation as not to arouse suspicion. Spanner didn't tell him much about Basil's crafted persona or his.

Tsuna sighed. "Just think of this as another one of Reborn's tests."

He wasn't exactly sure the legal process was for running a hero agency considering underground heroism was probably morally grey in this world as well. But then again, considering this world's unhealthy obsession with the limelight perhaps underground heroes were no different but only differed in people who wished for attention versus those who didn't. Either way, he saw a lot of paperwork in his future.

Finally, after he worked out his stay, he had to deal with whatever Endeavor wanted with him.

"Please don't be another Xanxus. Please don't be another Xanxus," he muttered quietly.

Tsuna groaned. He wanted—needed something to do. He didn’t need to pack since, well, he literally came to this world with nothing but the clothes on his back. Usually, he would be chilling with Natsu but they both agreed that they'd rather see Natsuo happy for as long as possible. it was sad but he didn't have much of a relationship outside general pleasantries with the members of this household (and occasional visitors). Tsuna would've tried to find Yuki to ask if she needed any help but she was out on a business trip. She apologized that she couldn’t see him off but apparently there was an urgent matter she needed to tend to. He didn’t mind. Her hospitality for the last two weeks were more than enough.

Speaking of, the only thing he thought of as a bother was the line of questioning from the police and even then that was a minor nitpick. On the third day of his first week, he was taken in to give his statement on the attempted assassination (or "villainy" as they called it) and fill the _ dreaded _paperwork that came with all those legal matters. It really seemed like he couldn’t escape responsibility no matter what world he went to. Thankfully the government of this world and his agency (has he thanked Basil yet?) were pretty good with restoration and compensation because damn. Even if he wasn’t the one to level the neighborhood, he certainly didn’t help rebuild it.

The two police officers asked him who he was, what he did, any background knowledge, background checks, witness accounts—the usual. Even if he didn’t know the exact laws of this world, with the training beaten into his head by Reborn, he was able to breeze through the questioning. The only minor hiccup was his lack of hero license—which he learned was crucial especially for underground heroes—but a call to his “agency” confirmed his identity (seriously he needed to thank Basil when he returned home). They let him off with a warning about Quirk usage without a license on hand since he "just arrived back to Japan". Fairly nice people all things considered.

What baffled him the most was the second question they asked him after his name and hero identification: his Quirk. In his mind, Quirks equated to Flames. Even in the mafia no one really asked what someone’s Flames were as a form of identification unless it was someone important such as the donna or don of a famiglia. In fact, one of the police officers not handling his case asked him what his Quirk was before his identity. Seeing Quirks as an identifier cemented in Tsuna’s mind just how dependant their society was on it. Not unfounded but still that posed several questions in his head. He briefly wondered if there was Quirk-based discrimination or reverence akin to his world’s Flame purity controversy.

_ I don’t mind. I was born with the wrong Quirk. Sho… Shoto wasn’t. _

Tsuna placed a hand over his chest where the letter was carefully pocketed. He never did ask for clarification or details regarding the Todoroki family since his heart-to-heart with Natsuo. It wasn’t his business and he certainly didn’t want the boy to relive his painful memories. So out of respect, he tried to refrain from thinking about it. Unfortunately, he failed. His Sky attribute was a double-edged sword. On one hand, his Flames amplified his general friendliness; it allowed others to feel comfortable around him. On the other hand, that same compassion made it impossible for him to distance himself from those he cared about.

From Yuki’s reaction to Endeavor's proposal, she seemed to know what was going on in the main Todoroki household but the extent she knew was, from his observations, limited. Not to mention the complex situation he could only begin to imagine she was forced into. Fuyumi seemed to hold her parents in high regard, or at least try and justify her or Natsuo’s negative slip-ups about their family. She didn’t exactly _ compliment _ her parents but gave reasons as to why their family dynamics were a _ bit _disjointed—as she described.

Their parents… God that was another whole conversation, wasn’t it? From the way Natsuo spoke about them he seemed to hold fear, spite, and indifference towards his neglectful father—the self-implication and dismissal being just two of the symptoms he noticed. He seemed to see his mother as a distant figure—like a mirage he couldn’t hope to touch. Growing up in a large household full of very... _ assertive _people, he couldn't even begin to imagine being left to his own devices. To be honest, it felt a little suffocating at times but nevertheless he loved them. He could joke about spending some time away from the family—which, yes, the sentiment was partially true—but when it came down to it, he’d sooner face the entirety of the Vindice a thousand times over than be parted from them any longer. So the isolation the boy felt being in the house, unable to truly receive the love and affection a child deserves from their parents. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how lonely he must be.

Fuyumi shared Natsuo’s sentiments but in a more mature and forgiving manner. She described her father as “busy and ambitious” while her mother was “just a little tired”. She seemed to notice the look on his face because she immediately waved her hands and said she was fine.

Tsuna had to wonder if their mother was almost like a watered-down version of their father or something else. He’s seen enough families in his line of work that sometimes, even if a child defended their parents to the bitter end, the “love” they clung onto was nothing but manipulation of their naivety and innocence. Considering how their mother seemed to favour the youngest didn’t bode well for him either. It seemed that favouritism split the family apart—especially towards their eldest. He could only hope wherever this Toya was, he fared better than most of his friends—Hayato came immediately to mind. But then again, he’d seen situations where the parents were manipulated by either a third-party source or amongst themselves. He couldn’t make any clear or decisive judgements but Natsuo's letter sat heavily on his chest.

Tsuna hummed contemplatively, his hand covering his mouth with a drumming finger with his other arm crossed over his chest. A deep orange glint swirled around his eyes, blinking slowly like a lion awaiting its prey. If he was back in his own world, this would've already signalled his guardians into action.

When the real Vongola inheritance was officially announced, he received major backlash from the… more volatile and traditional allied famiglias. There were several reasons for this. Sometimes it was some physical features he lacked like height, overt “masculinity”, or an intimidating face like Xanxus’s. Mostly it was due to his background and lack of history with the mafia; they thought he was too naive and inexperienced to succeed in a near ten generation organization. Takeshi actually had to physically restrain Hayato when one of the allied dons called him a “petite kitten trying to roar like a lion”. He honestly wasn't offended—the insult wasn't even that good—but try telling a Vongola Storm that. To be fair, those who disapproved of him weren’t completely wrong. Growing up a civillian, his ideas on the future of the Vongola often clashed with other mafiosos. In the aforementioned situation, Tsuna was mostly distracted by the stupidity of the man. To insult the don of a higher-ranking famiglia directly to his face at his inheritance ceremony with other high ranking officials—most of whom were dons and donnas who favoured him—was simply, suicidal.

Well, not like it mattered. If years of low self-esteem followed by Reborn’s unconventional methods of self-empowerment prepared him for anything, it was to ignore petty insults. Tsuna didn’t become a don to inherit a bloody legacy, he seized its power to destroy it because he _ could _. And if some crusty old man wanted to argue over “Vongola traditionalism”, he would gladly chuck Vongola Primo’s will into his face.

But over the years those whispers died out. Over the years, they learned to leave a sleeping cub lie. Because if anyone saw his expression right now, they would never be able to contest his position as the don of the world’s biggest, most influential, and bloodiest famiglia.

He let out a humourless laugh, a sinister gleam in his eye that would make Reborn proud. Many considered Tsuna as one of the most peaceful dons. But everyone knew that Vongola Decimo would decimate anyone who hurt the innocent—especially children. Even Mukuro, who was known as the most ruthless and sadistic person—monster—in the underground, didn't hold a candle to the absolute fear instilled in those who were at the receiving end of those darkened orange eyes.

And soon, if found this "Endeavor" to be... less than humane, well, it looked like he could finally let out some steam after all.

Tsuna slowly stood up as he saw Natsu flick his ears and quickly blink away, dropping a startled Natsuo on the floor, just before Fuyumi appeared to tell them that their ride had arrived. With the weight of the paper burning a hole into his chest, Tsuna took a deep breath to collect himself. No need for the children to see him like this.

This meeting was either going to be very insightful or end up in flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exams are over! I'll be updating regularly again! Thank you to those who supported me through kind words!
> 
> I honestly did not expect this story to receive +1k kudos! Thank you so much for reading my story ❤️


	9. Drive to Musutafu City

“Do you really have to go? Can't you stay just for one more hour?” Natsuo pleaded, wringing his hands, eyes bouncing from his sister and his hero.

Tsuna, who was helping Fuyumi load her luggage into the car, paused and smiled apologetically at him. But before he could say something, Fuyumi interjected.

“Natsuo, we’ve already delayed our trip by two,” she chided softly, “I know it gets a little lonely but auntie will be back in a couple of hours.”

He pouted, crossing his arms. “I know,” he mumbled as he kicked some dirt.

She gave Tsuna an apologetic glance before going up to her little brother and softly pinching his cheeks.

“Ow,” he said reflexively.

“It’s not like we’re leaving forever, we should be used to this by now.” She crouched a little, looking at him in the eye. “Besides, when you come back home, we can go visit Cielo’s agency together. Right?”

Tsuna nodded at her prompt. “I don’t know how long it’ll be until my next case but you’re both welcomed to visit at any time.”

“See?” she said gently wiggling his pinched cheeks. “It’s not the end of the world. Come on, where’s that _ All Might _smile?” 

Natsuo giggled before smiling mischievously, pressing his index finger on his lips. Sharing a look with each other, they both grinned before Fuyumi hugged him, telling him to stay out of trouble.

Tsuna looked at their interaction with fondness in his eyes, staying as silently as possible as not to interrupt them.

With one last squeeze, she ruffled his hair, the latter of whom cried out in annoyance and tried to ruffle hers in retaliation. She chuckled when his arms couldn’t quite reach her head.

“Don't cause trouble for auntie, okay?” With that said, Fuyumi entered the car making sure their designated driver, a close family friend of hers, knew where Cielo’s hero agency was. The coordinates Shoichi gave Tsuna was apparently located in a very obscure part of the city.

Tsuna nearly flinched when Natsuo suddenly tackled him into a hug. The boy had an uncanny ability to walk silently and sneak up on people. And his hyper intuition was, like always in these non-threatening situations, ineffective or an absolute sadistic bastard. Probably both.

Tsuna crouched as Natsuo clawed at his suit, burying himself into his shirt before letting go. He looked at him with lingering sadness but mostly with fierce determination.

“I’m going to miss you,” he said resolutely, “but I’m going to visit you, okay? So you can’t leave before that! You can’t forget me!”

How sweet could he get? “Don’t worry. I promise we’ll meet again before I leave— on another mission,” he added quickly, “and the next time we meet, I promise I’ll show you some more cool tricks I can do with my Flames and Natsu.”

Natsuo gasped, stars shining in his eyes. “You’re going to show me your ultimate moves!? Really? Really, _ really _?”

He nodded.

“Promise?” he asked, lifting his pinky finger. 

“Promise,” Tsuna confirmed locking their fingers together.

A dead serious look shadowed Natsuo’s face as if they signed an oath with the Vindice. “You promised, okay? You can’t break it! Toya said that people who break their promises have to eat a thousand needles and I don't want you to be all poke-y and dead.”

Tsuna poked his cheek playfully. “I won’t. Stay safe, okay?”

Before he could leave, Natsuo pulled on his sleeve. “W—Wait!” He looked left and right before cupping his hands around his mouth. “You have it right?” he whispered loudly.

Tsuna blinked before winking at him, patting his chest where the letter was safely tucked away. “Your words are safe with me.”

Natsuo opened his mouth but hesitated. Instead, he hugged the man one last time before seeing the two off.

  
  


Tsuna watched as the Japanese countryside scrolled passed him, distracting himself by observing his surroundings. The sun was setting, a warm orange hue bathing the fields, a soft glow bouncing off each lamp post they passed.

“Just a little while longer,” he thought as he stared longingly at the open skies.

He leaned against his seat, taking a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. He was grateful that Fuyumi decided to sit in front instead of the back with him. She had looked at him oddly when he asked but respected his privacy and just nodded. Still, out of concern, she sat in the middle row as the front seats were separated by a privacy barrier.

If there was one thing that never changed since the beginning of his reign as Vongola boss it was his anxiety sitting in moving vehicles. He didn’t have amaxophobia nor was he claustrophobic in them. It had just been too long since he could comfortably sit in a car without worrying about hitmen or acting on a moment’s notice just in case the car was tampered with or his location was compromised. Hyper intuition only went so far and in such a narrow space, he was out of his element. He had plenty of close calls—towards him and his family. Although nothing major has yet to happen, Tsuna’s anxiety over “what-ifs?” made his leg bounce a mile a minute and fingers nearly tearing the buttons off his cuffs. In any other situation he would’ve been able to fake composure but this? This fear of _ waiting _coupled with the feeling of insecurity from being away from his guardians only served to amplify his paranoia.

This was one of those rare things that even Reborn didn’t tease him about (up to a certain extent, of course). He would give warnings and looks to fix his posture but unlike his usual sadistic self, in these situations, he took a more serious yet understanding approach. In fact, this was a well-kept secret within the inner Vongola circle not to provoke the young boss in any way during transfers.

“Cielo, are you okay?” Fuyumi asked politely, turning her head back to see Tsuna’s stiff form squirming in the backseat.

“Just fine”—he dug his head into the headrest— “no need to worry,” he grunted.

She hummed like a mother catching her child in a lie. “Are you car sick? I have some medication that can help.” She shuffled around her bag, looking for the small pink tablet. “Natsuo gets motion sickness if he rides for too long so I always have some on hand.”

He tapped her seat to get her attention. “I’m fine, really.”

Fuyumi opened her mouth to argue but shut it with a small sigh. She had to remember that he wasn’t her friend or family member—he may see her as invasive if she asked too many questions. She couldn’t just banter with him like she did with Natsuo but she couldn’t help but notice he seemed… troubled. Maybe he had a fear of cars? Did something happen?

Worried, but respectful of his boundaries, she chose to instead periodically glance at him from the rearview mirror just to make sure his condition didn’t worsen.

“I know I said this before, but really, thank you for keeping him company,” she said trying to fill the silence. “I know taking care of Natsuo isn’t easy.”

Tsuna chuckled, his voice a little rougher than usual. “He’s not a difficult kid. I’ve dealt with so much worse— _Ah_, not in a bad way. Just… in terms of energy.”

He sighed, I-pin although her eccentricities at times made him panic, was a respectful and good child. Yuni and Futa were just sweethearts, if not an unintentional magnet for trouble. Lambo on the other hand…

Fuyumi blinked, turning to look at him. “Do you have siblings too? That explains why you’re so used to Natsuo’s antics.”

“Not blood related but I have younger brothers and sisters. He reminds me of them. Although one of my younger brothers can get”—trigger-happy—“hyperactive at times but he's a good kid— Oh? Did I say something funny?”

Tsuna raised an amused brow at the girl looking at him with an awed twinkle in her eye.

She shook her head, staring off with a forlorn smile on her face. “No, sorry, it’s just that— You must love your family a lot,” she said, her words heavy on her tongue.

It was a sentiment she didn’t see all that often. No, that was wrong. She’s seen it before, several times actually in movies and shows with “normal” families with “normal” people with “normal” interactions. The way he talked about his family made her feel like she was lacking something; the fact that he held such pure and simple devotion for somebody sprouted feelings she'd thought were gone.

In her childhood, before she made an effort to make connections outside her family, she’d always thought such interactions were solely the result of media dramatization. To her younger self, even something as simple as eating and sharing personal anecdotes together on one table seemed idealistic and odd. In her house, sharing anything at all was oversharing. When you eat, why would you talk? When you talk, why should it be about some inconsequential story about yourself?

It wasn’t until she started to interact with other children her age—other _ normal _children her age—that she realized staying silent was considered weird. Children her age yelled and cried and spoke about the silliest things yet nobody reprimanded them for wasting time. Nobody said that their words were meaningless. Nobody was treated like they were worthless and ignored.

She could still vividly remember the time when the class got too rowdy and the supervising teacher told them to be quiet. Her heart had jumped to her throat, biting her lips together to suppress her fear. She wasn’t like Toya where she could detach herself from the situation. She wasn’t as "brave" as him. She had yet to develop techniques to contain her tears from dotting her eyes, to refrain from trembling and making a mess, to rather gag herself before a squeak could possibly leak out.

Meanwhile, the other students merely nodded, others just lowered their volume.

She was terrified.

She was terrified for them. Their teacher—an _adult_—told them to be silent yet the most they did was talk quieter. It didn’t matter if that teacher was known to be the kindest towards her students. Such "rebellious" behaviour was unheard of to her. What would happen? She didn’t have a frame of reference for what happened when you didn’t listen to an adult. Would she get angry? Would she hate them? She, and even Toya, never dared to go against their parents directly.

As she flushed from embarrassment and shame, the heat on her cheeks only making the white-hot fire rolling through her body from the pits of her stomach to the ends of her toes colder, teeth digging into her lips to keep them bound, nails burning red on her knees, waiting for the silence to choke her—

The teacher went back to work.

The class continued to talk.

Her friends asked her what was wrong.

And she just stared.

One thought truly sank in for the first time: this was what “normal” was. The movies and shows she’d watched and fantasize about didn’t dramatize normality—it underplayed it in her opinion. The “truths” and techniques she and Toya developed to live were different from the world outside the Todoroki name.

That was when she finally noticed it: the fondness people held for another. A type of fondness that triumphed over any conflicts. The same sort of exasperated fondness she’d seen from her friends and the students she tutored. The one that said, "okay, I disagree with you but I still love you". That was a type of connection she craved. A connection that wouldn’t sever from a few misplaced words and actions. 

The affection the hero in front of her held when talking about his family was more than anything she’d felt before. It was like pure gratitude and love came so simple to him. It felt as if she had tried opening a safe for hours on end with complex strategies and guesswork but then he came along with the answer as easy as “1234”.

  
  


Tsuna nodded, it wasn’t difficult to tell he loved his family. He also observed her reactions carefully, noting her expression.

“It’s weird seeing someone so happy talking about their family like that. I don’t see it often— _Ah!_” Fuyumi jumped, turning her body towards him. “Not that I’m calling you weird! I meant that it was strange— no, not strange! I don’t mean that heroes are weird either or aren’t happy. I wouldn’t know, it’s probably because I’m not that into heroes like Natsuo is. Not that I don’t respect the profession—”

“I’m not offended,” he added quickly.

“Yeah! Okay, okay… It’s just like— It’s not like I’ve never seen it or anything,” she defended.

“But some people are more private than others,” he clarified, to help calm her. “I get that.” His aloof Cloud came immediately to mind.

“Not exactly,” she muttered under her breath before shaking her head. “Sorry, I’m not usually like this, I swear.”

“I understand.” Either his Sky’s harmonizing factor was somehow unknowingly amplified in this universe or the pair of siblings were so pent up emotionally that it made their tongues loose. Perhaps it was a mutual influence of both factors since Sky Flames were not truth serums. Tsuna shivered at the thought of Reborn’s spartan lessons if that were true.

_ “Hah… _ I can already feel the pre-meeting migraine coming up,” he thought.

Fuyumi clenched her hands on her lap, knees pressed together, a red welt burning on her skin. She slowly looked away, chiding herself for being overly sensitive. She should’ve been used to such topics by now! And what was with that stutter? Those incoherent answers!? Why did she do that!? Did the villain attack rewire her brain or something? Why did she fumble over her words like that?

She felt a hot wash of shame cascading down her back. She cupped her cheeks with her hands, heat radiating off her skin, pretending to warm her hands instead of cooling them down with her Quirk.

Cielo was an observant person. Too observant. Idiot, idiot, _ idiot _. Look what she did. Now he had that worried look on his face!

_ “Ugh… _Why am I always like this?” she thought. “Why didn’t I just nod? I just made things awkward!”

A million scenarios ran through her head, showing all the actions she could’ve—should’ve—taken. Most of which were her staying silent and texting her friends or something. But she didn’t. He was just too close to the family that she couldn’t just be respectfully distant with him like her father’s other business associates. But still, he was too much of a stranger to just pour her feelings out like that! She barely knew the man!

“Oh my God…” She peeked a glance at him before quickly looking away. “His first impressions of me are being half-dead and stuttering like an insane person! He probably thinks I can’t even hold a simple conversation!”

Thankfully for both of them, each lost in their own thoughts, they failed to notice the other’s odd behaviour. Beyond the privacy glass, however, the driver pretended not to notice any of it.

Fuyumi cleared her throat, calming her nerves. She was already fifteen for goodness sake, not a child!

“A—Anyways Cielo, it must’ve been a long time since you visited your agency here right? I’ve heard from Natsuo that you usually spend your time in Italy.”

“Our Japanese branch started about three years ago by a close friend of mine. I haven’t been here in years actually.”

“Are they an underground hero as well?”

...Was he? Spanner didn’t mention anything specific. “He’s been in and out of the limelight but in general, we like to keep our work private.”

“But hero work is mostly funded on billboard ratings and media revenue, right? I’d understand contract work being paid higher than the average hero considering most underground heroes are given more dangerous jobs but is that enough to fund two agencies? The Italian HPSC and the Hero Association work similarly to the Japanese one, right?”

Great, time for the word game again!

“I’m unfortunately not entirely familiar with the economic and political side of the Japanese HPSC and the Hero Association but they should work similarly. Rest assured, the work our agency does is more than enough to keep things running smoothly.” Basil made sure of that.

“Your work? Is it dangerous? I heard underground work is morally grey. Do you do spy work like espionage as well? Do you work with INTERPOL? Because there was a documentary film made years ago detailing the life of a late underground hero—I can’t recall her name at the moment—she worked with an American billboard hero—I think she was in the top 10?—to hide her movements from a notorious villain group importing illicit drugs to impoverished countries. It made people’s Quirks go wild before dying from exhaustion. She had a hunch that the group was commissioned by a neighbouring country to disrupt the government to generate mass panic and weaken their border defences. In fact...”

Fuyumi went on about the obscure film, detailing each scene with such passion he’s only seen in Hayato when he found a particularly good conspiracy theory on UMAs. His lips quirked up, amused at how similar she and Natsuo looked when they were excited; their eyes wide and ears perked, fidgeting like they physically couldn’t hold back their excitement. The two were very expressive in their actions when they didn’t need to watch their words or actions—when they shared their interests and stories. He swore he could see sparkles dancing around her face as well.

And he had to admit when the topic wasn’t about her family, she knew how to carry a conversation well especially for someone so young.

Fuyumi flushed, seeing his expression. “I’m sorry for asking childish and invasive questions...and going on a tangent. I just”—she frantically combed through her hair, eyes suddenly finding the dirty mats interesting—“I’ve never met an underground hero before so...”

“It’s completely fine. I’m just surprised you’re so well informed. My impression of”—this universe—“most people were that they focus mostly on the prestigious part of heroics. Not many are interested in socioeconomic and geopolitical disparities behind the scenes, you know?”

“W—Well, I want to become a teacher and it’s good to be well-informed of these things. Besides, when your dad is the number two hero, you get to learn some things outside the public image. Dad doesn’t like the media all that much so we never grew up caring about all that.”

“Finally I can relate to one thing with that man,” he sighed before clearing his throat. “Sorry, that was rude.”

She shrugged. “I’ve heard worse comments and I can’t fault you for not liking him. Dad isn’t known for his sociability.”

“Miss Yuki said the same thing.”

She paused for a moment. “You've really never heard of Endeavor,” she slowly confirmed.

“I’m afraid not. I don’t—more so couldn’t—pay attention to the billboard. Where I was, such a thing was practically non-existent.”

Fuyumi made a noise not entirely believing his story. Not that she was suspecting him of lying! But to her, a world without the hero popularity board seemed “lacking” in a sense. It was like reading about the world before the digital revolution. She knew about it, believed it, but it seemed so outside her time that the eras before felt ancient and foreign.

“Then I hope you won’t be too surprised by his… assertiveness. It’s not exactly a secret dad is more work-oriented—he’s there to be a strong hero. You’ll hear a lot of things about him—I’m sure Natsuo said his fair share of things. I mean, just look at anything the media has written about him you’ll know that he’s very... forward.”

“I know better than to trust rumours and stories.” At least at face value. “I always try to withhold _ final _judgement until I’ve met the person… even if they were shown in a negative light,” he added carefully, sensing her need to defend her family.

Fuyumi so desperately wanted to refute those statements; to say that the media was wrong and misunderstanding her father’s actions. She dreamed and fantasized about a universe where her father was a good man, someone like Gang Orca, who, despite his “villain” like appearance, was a kind albeit strict man. But all she could say was:

“He’s very passionate.”

“So I’ve heard.”

She bit her lower lip, squirming. “You don’t understand. He’s really, _ really _passionate about his work.”

Tsuna placed his hand on her seat, giving her a reassuring look. It was obvious that she was split between defending the man or him.

“Trust me, in my line of work, I’ve met people who would shoot me on sight as a friendly greeting.”

He laughed but she couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. He continued.

“When you have experience in keeping two beasts from wrangling the other’s throat and subsequently all those who try to interfere every Christmas, big men in suits stop being intimidating.”

What happened at last year's Christmas Gala would haunt him for life.

“Oh… Did your reformed villain… companions? Have wild animal Quirks?”

“Honestly, they might as well have.” Even that would've been preferable to Flames, realistic illusions, and tonfas.

“Okay?” she replied confused but supportive to his exasperation. “Well, if you need anything, I’ll be at the main house. Please don’t hesitate to drop by, it’s the least I can do. You’re going to visit your agency first, right?”

He nodded. “I’ll be heading towards Endeavor’s agency afterwards.” Tsuna glanced outside, the sunset looking back at him as they approached the city. “Maybe tomorrow instead. From what Miss Yuki said, as long as I attend by the end of this week, I’ll be fine provided I give them a heads up.”

Well, more precisely, she said, “drop by at your convenience. If Endeavor is so desperate, he can get off his silver throne and _beg_.” 

“Although so far as what I’ve heard, Endeavor didn’t tell me the reason as to why he arranged this meeting.”

Fuyumi ran her fingers through her hair. “Well, this is just our theory and I’m not a hundred percent sure but you can use both ice _and_ fire, right?”

He hummed affirmatively. “Natsuo mentioned that your youngest brother has something similar as well?”

“Ah, so you’ve already heard of Shoto.” She shuffled her feet, continuing with mixed emotion. “Dad likes to dote on him and although having multiple Quirks of similar qualities are uncommon, the combination like those of Shoto’s Quirks are practically one-of-a-kind. So I guess it’s natural that he wanted you to tutor him or something.”

He sure hopes not. He wouldn’t hear the end of it from Reborn if his students came out as anything less than perfect.

Tsuna crossed his arms, giving her an apologetic look. “I’m honestly not sure I could help if that's the case. My flames don’t react as regular fire would. Besides, I’m no teacher.”

“Then, at least it’ll be a short meeting?” she tried to... console?

“Hopefully.” I intend to. “What about your brother?”

“He’s stuck with dad… and mom,” she added quietly. “Anyways, if you end up teaching Shoto, you’ll probably be invited into the main house anyways. Mom doesn’t like Shoto going to the agency after all.”

She could still remember the argument her parents had that one night. She only picked up a few keywords but the intensity of their voices echoing through the halls imprinted itself in her memory.

“But don’t worry! I’ll be there too," she encouraged. "So if anything comes up you can come talk to me.”

He didn't know if her statement said more about her parents or him if he actually said yes. A grown man going to a teenager for aid in this scenario? Not that he thought of her as incapable, of course. But hiding behind a child left a bad taste in his mouth. He would die from embarrassment faster than Reborn could get to him.

“Thank you, but I’m sure I can handle whatever comes my way.”

She gasped. “Oh no, I didn’t mean to insinuate that you’re weak or anything!”

Tsuna held back a frown. He needed to clarify things, the anxiety rolling off of her reminded him of Chrome in their younger days.

“I didn’t take it that way. Don’t worry about it. Thank you, Fuyumi.”

_ Knock. Knock. Knock. _

Tsuna and Fuyumi turned to look at the driver who had lowered the privacy guard. He gestured towards the fairly plain-looking building nestled in between similar ones like it.

“Sorry, don’t mean to interrupt you both but we’ve arrived.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the irregular updates. I'm going on an overseas internship next month and preparations are taking up a majority of my time. I really want to finish this fic before I leave since I won't be able to access AO3 until my internship is over. I'm working hard to write all the chapters!
> 
> Thank you for all the support! Like, I'm always floored by the comments, tags, and kudos you leave.


	10. Musutafu: Vongola Hero Network (Part I)

Emergency exits on the far left side of the building. Not ideal but adequate.

Eighteen windows visible with blinds and latches. Two with visuals on the inside covered by plants.

First floor has uneven window spacing—indication of a private meeting room? Second and Third floors have even spacing for office use.

Top floor has the largest window—either the boss’s office or an observation deck. Wait. Also has decoy windows—perhaps a communications area? Fourteen windows.

Reinforced concrete, glass, copper, and metals used for exterior. Shouldn't be a problem. Copper used for top floor—confirmation of communications bay?

Buildings surround it look similar in style but lack human presence—empty, decoys, or storage?

Tsuna entered the plain-looking building after seeing Fuyumi off and following the directions he was given by Shoichi. As he opened the main door, a woman with large antlers in a sleek business suit looked up at him from the front desk. She walked towards him, her steps purposeful and fluid, her height towering over his.

“Welcome back to Japan Cielo,” she greeted as she bowed politely. “My name is Rosemary, the director of the Vongola Hero Network. Please follow me for the tour.”

Confident. Her voice and mannerisms conveyed a sense of strength and meticulousness. In fact…  “She seems a lot like Oregano and Lal Mirch,” he thought.

Tsuna stood up straight into a familiar, inviting yet professional posture. “A pleasure.”

While the break was great while it lasted, it was time for work.

  
  


“..and on the top floor is your office. Basil mentioned you like your privacy so he left us instructions not to touch your office besides dusting the place on occasion,” Rosemary said as the elevator dinged.

Although the building was bare and plain from the outside, the inside was much more decorated and professional—looking like an actual business office instead of an abandoned lot. If he didn’t have his hyper intuition to state otherwise, he would’ve thought that the agency was cloaked in Mist Flames with how inconspicuous it looked. The interior was a modernized version of the main Vongola HQ mixed in with a little CEDEF—probably not Basil’s decision as he was quite traditionalistic in his tastes. Tsuna, on the other hand, welcomed it. As much as he liked the Italianate, Revival styles of the nineteenth century, he really didn’t want to be reminded of the mafia right now. The building itself wasn’t large but he could see that it had a good environment—adequate cubicles, good spacing, electricity, ventilation, heat, plumbing, sanitation, atmosphere, a kitchen and a lounge area close to the windows, and individual offices. All in all, the property was an amazing find considering Basil started off with nothing.

“Thank you, Rosemary,” Tsuna said as they both got off the elevator. “Is your office there as well or...?”

“My office is on this floor like the others. Basil's is here as well. However, next to your room is the communications bay.”

He nodded. “That makes more sense. May I ask what that hidden room on the first floor is for?”

Rosemary blinked twice. “Basil said that you were sharp. It’s a private meeting room for our more ‘elite’ clients.” The government. “Oh, before I forget, Basil didn’t take any sidekicks so it’s just the business and communications department working here.”

As they walked around the office, Tsuna pretended not to notice the curious stares of his new employees peeking through their cubicles.

“He also informed us that you would be out of touch with modern society due to your last mission.” Nice save, Basil! “If you have any questions, please feel free to ask.”

“Thank you. I can see why Basil placed you in charge.”

Her lips quirked up meeting the curled ends of her hair. “I co-founded with the agency with him so I’m very familiar with how the it runs.” No wonder the building didn’t look like a hot mess. “Oh, that reminds me, Endeavor Hero Agency called about a meeting. Did you know about this?”

He nodded. “I’m planning to go tomorrow. Although the reason as to why isn’t confirmed yet.”

“I see. Considering the time frame they gave you, I doubt it’s anything urgent. I’ll make the call for you. Would tomorrow at noon work?”

Basil, how did you find this wonderful woman and can she join the main famiglia? In fact, many people he interacted with had the makings of a good Vongola mafioso—calm, clever, and caring. Not only that, having powers from a different universe always had their weight in merits (anti-Flame weapons can go screw themselves). Seriously, can you imagine how many people he can find with his hyper intuition alone—

A  _ shudder  _ passed through his spine.

“Oh my God. I’m becoming like Reborn by the day,” he thought fearfully. He wasn’t exactly the best influence.

Tsuna nodded, subtly placing his hand over Natsu’s box hung on his belt, muffling the quiet chuckles. He was so much cuter in his ring form. “It does, thank you.”

“The necessary forms for your arrival are on your desk but otherwise I believe that is it—”

“So you’re our mysterious and elusive boss, eh?” A young man’s head popped out from the cubicle wall next to Tsuna, shooting him an easy-going smile. “I never thought I’d see the day—  _ OW!” _

“Don’t be rude Borage,” Rosemary admonished.

Tsuna  _ almost  _ sputtered. “Borage?”

Rubbing his arm, Borage turned his attention back at Tsuna. “Oh yeah, you wouldn’t know but Basil gave us names to use around the agency. Actually... it was more like us teasing him about his name and making some for ourselves cause, y’know,"—he shrugged—"fun. It was supposed to be a joke— to break the ice and all. But I guess along the way it kind of stuck.”

“If you'd prefer our real names that’s fine as well,” Rosemary interrupted, “we know it’s a tad odd.”

Tsuna waved his hand. “No, no. I just thought it was too much of a coincidence. Back in Italy, Basil also has a team under him with subordinates named after herbs and spices. Please pay me no mind. It’s basically your hero name, right?”

The room suddenly went quiet, Tsuna internally panicking at the silence that followed, before the room erupted into laughter. Even Rosemary seemed to be amused.

Borage rubbed his eye, wheezing from laughter. “Basil wasn’t wrong when he said that the boss was a cool dude.”

At Tsuna’s confusion, Rosemary clarified, “to most people, regular civilians and employees who have ‘hero’ names are frowned upon.”

Tsuna furrowed his brows. “I’d understand if the name was already taken or used for exploitive purposes but…?”

“It’s a faux pas. Some people see it as arrogant, you know? Like if you’re a kid, whatever, but once you hit twenty,  _ suddenly  _ you’re supposed to be either a hero, villain, or civilian,” he added, waving sarcastic little jazz hands.

That was stupid. “I see. Well, I have no intention to stop such a harmless action. Clearly the agency was running smoothly with Rosemary in charge so I don’t see any reason to change anything. No need for formalities. Please, don’t let me ruin your dynamic.”

The room went silent again before erupting in cheer.

_ “Fuck yeah!” _

_ “Job security plus a chill boss!” _

_ “It makes the nicknames worth it.” _

Rosemary sighed, apologizing to Tsuna about their co-worker’s “excitability”. He paid it no mind, more surprised than anything. He didn’t think an underground hero agency would carry such liveliness but then again, the Vongola always attracted the most eccentric people.

_ Clap! Clap! _

“Alright, alright!” She announced, cutting through the noise. “Everyone, get back to work. Chervil, please finish filing the incident reports on the South Asian drug exports by today. Juniper, did you get the case on Quirk amplification trade? Good. Borage, stop staring at Cielo. Anise please start on this month’s spreadsheets if you haven’t already. Everyone else, you know what to do.”

  
  
  


As Tsuna shut the doors to his office, he let out an exasperated sigh, slouching a little. Reborn would absolutely shoot his spine if he saw how “un-boss-like” he was but he wasn’t here now was he?

He looked around the office and saw that Rosemary wasn’t lying when she said that they left the place untouched besides some occasional maintenance (not that he doubted her). The oak desk was spotless save for a few packages neatly tucked into the corner with an intercom next to it. But if they had touched anything, he would know. Basil tended to leave markers in, on, and around his desk so that a mechanism would silently trigger if any of the drawers were tampered with. It was similar to his desks made by Spanner and Giannini back home (who often competed with each other with their craft) but Basil liked to construct the triggers himself.

He circled around the desk, inspecting it for any hidden latches or compartments, his hands sliding underneath the desk placing pressure on his thumb until—  _ click!  _ Bingo.

“Now let’s see...” Tsuna crouched as he slid out a thin panel below the desk, taking out a small blue package with a Flame seal protecting it. He slipped out under the table and sat on the plush office chair, propping his arm against the armrest and his cheek.

Unlocking the seal, he read its contents:

_ Greetings Decimo. _

_ If it be true thou art reading this, then thee has stumbled upon this strange world like I had. Thankfully, thee had arrived after I, as we would not want to have another ēldlive incident, would we? I shall outline as much of the world as possible during mine own stay here. _

Okay, yeah, no he was going to paraphrase this.

First and foremost, the hero agency section of the report detailed how the “Vongola Hero Network” was less of a traditional hero office and more so of a secret intelligence agency working in the background alongside the Hero Public Safety Commission (HPSC) and the Hero Association—which was another branch of the HPSC that dealt more with the actual implementation of Quirk laws.

“So something similar to the intelligence branch of the CEDEF but legal.”

The Vongola Hero Network had thirteen people including Basil before he had left, and more in counting. Other agents, government supervisors, underground heroes, and such were unaccounted for as they were more so partners than employees. The Network was founded by Basil, Rosemary, and apparently himself. He and Basil were underground heroes and was the face of the company while Rosemary was the brains, guiding Basil around this universe as well as managing most of the agency.

“Lucky. Where did you find someone so competent?”

In this world, heroes were basically the CEOs of a company (if they opened their own). He was given this position as Basil wouldn’t think of placing the Vongola Decimo in a lower position than himself.

“I wouldn’t have minded, you know. Less work for me.”

Basil explained to the Network that as an underground hero already engaged in business overseas, he was the sole communicator between Tsuna and the company. And due to this world’s lack of Flames, forging his signature for legal documents was easy. Basil apologized but knew he wouldn’t have minded. He briefly mentioned doing some other things under his name but Tsuna barely gave it a thought. He trusted Basil.

Personally, both men wouldn’t label their network as a “hero agency” but management was much easier under legal supervision if they played by the Underground Hero Privacy Protection Sector. The UHPPS protected the morally grey areas of heroics and gave more freedom to do what was essentially monitored legal vigilante work.

“Daemon Spade would’ve had a field day with this one.”

The only downside to this was the mandatory missions given by the HPSC and the Association. This, in turn, meant that those particular cases were forcibly given priority under greater governmental supervision. Otherwise, it was better to work with the system through its loopholes as Basil outlined some of the fragile laws of this universe (some of which Tsuna had already suspected). Considering the time period they landed in, the awkward post-transitional period from “normal” laws to a Quirk-based one, the government was terribly weak and ill-suited for the current world.

“I guess some things just never change.”

Tsuna quickly read through the papers, silently thanking his external advisor for saving him the hassle of playing word games for any longer. The rest of the report detailed the universe: Quirks, the Hero system, and the organizations involved—including the importance of the hero billboard itself. In most of his reports, however, the name “All Might” came up multiple times as did “Endeavor” (although significantly less).

Tsuna hummed, leaning into his arm. “Maybe I should’ve came here first. Would've saved me from having mini panic attacks.”

Flipping to the last page, his eyes were immediately drawn to the highlighted note at the back.

_ Please note! Animals with Quirks art very rare as is possessing multiple Quirks. So it is most vital to stick to thy Sky Flames, Decimo. Use Natsu only in his Cambio Forma modes, if it be needed. Although thee would not be targeted for it, it will draw unnecessary attention and we all know thee has a certain affinity for trouble. _

“Okay, yeah,  _ wow _ . I really should’ve come here first.”

Tsuna sighed, leaning back on his seat, letting his body sag against the chair. Millions of different scenarios and actions ran through his mind as he factored in the new information. Basil and Rosemary had set the agency up so that it could run independently from the Vongola mafia which honestly saved him from the whole “the boss is back and now he’s leaving and we don’t know what to do” thing he dealt with, what, two, three accidental portals ago?

Back to the matter at hand, he didn’t know exactly what to do if the meeting with Endeavor was indeed about his youngest and most favoured son. He didn’t want the agency to be targeted, or be given negative attention due to his decisions. Even if this Endeavor wasn’t a petty man, refusing a powerful person could create unforeseen ripples. 

But even if he wanted to, he couldn’t exactly say yes. About half an hour before his departure from the Todoroki estate, Shoichi and Spanner mentioned something about minor interferences which prevented his return for an unspecified amount of time. They had said that the problem was relatively harmless but when you were playing with space-time, it was better to mitigate any possible risk. So it wasn’t like he knew when he was leaving. Even if he did, he doubted it would take any longer than a month—not nearly enough time to safely guide a child with what was essentially a weapon in their hands.

He couldn't delay his return either when the machine was fixed. At most, he got a few days to a few hours heads-up. He knew from experience when he once asked if it were possible during his “trip” to Primo’s era. All he got was a monotone, “do you think space-time manipulation is that easy?” by a  _ very  _ overworked Shoichi, Spanner, and Giannini. To be fair, Flames itself originated from space-time manipulating aliens. But more importantly, the Vongola accidentally transported way too many people into way too many weird universes and time periods that honestly? Tsuna thought it actually  _ was _ that easy!

He got sidetracked again.

Going back to the topic at hand, he  _ really  _ wanted to get involved. Not for Endeavor of course. But he’d spent too much time with the Todorokis and got attached. Which in Tsuna’s book of unlikely relationships basically meant that he had already taken them under his protection.

He placed a hand over his chest, and closed his eyes to think. Tapping his fingers on the armrest, he debated over his decisions. He wasn’t the type to half-ass things anymore and that meant actually choosing and committing to his actions instead of reluctantly following Reborn’s whims.

So what to do? 

He knew Natsuo wouldn't blame him if he couldn't deliver the letter. It was obvious from his words and actions that he didn't expect him to actually do it—he was probably thinking "what have I got to lose?" Which—_ugh—_made his heart clench thinking of his dejected, hopeless hopefulness. He absolutely refused to go against his words—his promise. But it wasn't like he could go up to the man and say, "Hey, I got a letter from your estranged son. For you? No. It's for his family that you kept behind that favouritism of yours!" Well, he wouldn't exactly say those words but... you know.

_ Gao! _

Tsuna opened his eyes when he felt Natsu’s box rattling in annoyance. He lit his ring aflame and unlocked the box, a ball of Sky Flames revealing a very irritated Natsu sitting on his lap.

“Gao! Gao!” he cried, slapping his head with his paw.

_ Why are you hesitating?— _ he seemed to demand— _ You already know the answer! _

Tsuna sighed, trying to block the swats. “You know I can’t make a large decision without thinking first. Can you imagine what Reborn would do if I just dove into unknown territory? Delayed my return, leaving the Vongola?”

He gave him a blank stare.  _ Nerd. _ “Gao.”  _ And like you haven’t done that before. _

Natsu cried, his mane flaring up, flicking his tail on his chest where the letter was. He gently bit his hand, drawing attention to his ring. His eyes burned orange.

Tsuna blinked owlishly before snorting. “You’re right, you’re right,” he admitted as he scratched Natsu under his chin. “Questioning my resolve, what am I? No-good Tsuna again?”

Natsu purred, chuffing. Sometimes his partner needed some reminders that he was the boss for a reason. Sometimes it was good to be a little selfish! They deserved it!

“We make our own rules now, don’t we? And if Shoichi and Spanner got me here with their irresponsibility in the first place, well, I doubt Hayato would mind me giving them a  _ little  _ punishment,” Tsuna chuckled darkly.

Maybe Byakuran wasn’t the greatest influence either.

“You know me too well." He massaged his cheeks, brushing the soft fur. "You’re really the better of us.”

Natsu huffed, puffing out his chest, legs uncomfortably pressing into his chest and thighs.

Tsuna tucked his hands under his forelimbs, lifting him up like a human child. His forelegs stuck out, his hindlegs still on his lap. He gently shook him, his forelimbs waddling from side to side as he flicked his tail.

“You’re not a cub anymore, Natsu. You’re heavy.”

Natsu shoved his paw on Tsuna’s face in response.

_ Knock! Knock! Knock! _

Natsu whined, his ears drooping, returning to his box. Tsuna shuffled the papers together, storing them in the drawer for later disposal.

“Door’s open,” Tsuna said, sweeping the table of any traceable evidence and pulling the papers out of their envelopes.

Familiar amber hair poked out from behind the door. “Hey, boss! It’s— _um_ Borage, by the way. Just in case I didn’t leave a lasting impression,” he teased. “Woah. Started already?"—he stared at the pile of signed papers—"Rosemary wanted me to tell you that she booked the meeting with Endeavor’s for you.”

“Thank you, but… you walked all the way here to tell me that?" Tsuna held a pen in his hand, completing the act. "Why didn’t you use the intercom?”

_ “Aww…  _ Am I not good company?” He pouted before returning to his easy smile. “I also brought up some extra papers that need signing. Sorry, about adding to that pile. It’s been in our files since forever.”

He raised a brow. “Oh?”

“No one else knew how to get in contact with you and Basil only checks in once a month.” He walked over to his desk, placing the papers down. “Must be some mission over in Italy, huh?”

“So that’s why he had that weird communicator commissioned,” Tsuna thought as he nodded.

“So boss how long you staying for this time?”

“I’m not sure—” Tsuna froze before quickly regaining his composure. “ _ This _ time?”

Unaware, Borage continued. “The last time we saw you was—actually since one of us saw you—was  _ years _ ago and you flew off so fast I barely caught you!”

He fucking  _ WHAT!?  _ “Really?” he asked innocently. “I must've missed you.”

“Yeah. Basil said your speed was impressive but seeing in real life? Damn. I doubt even the press had enough time to capture a blurry photo of you. Heh. There’s probably only about one half-decent picture of you in existance and that’s from  _ Quirks on Location _ from a few weeks ago. We had to pull some strings so your identity wouldn’t be covered by the big media outlets. They  _ love  _ sinking their fangs into underground heroes. Good job by the way. The cover up was a pain but damn if that shot wasn’t awesome.”

“Yes. Thank you. May I ask what you saw last time I was here? My work takes me into weird locations so sometimes the details become muddled.” Lies. As if Reborn didn’t make him memorize every mission he did by heart.

Borage stared at him as if he suddenly grew an extra head. “Damn, didn’t even think you had flaws,” he muttered under his breath.

“Yeah, um, the one from years ago? You were fighting Alto Mach with Basil. I think that hero  _ uh… _ Present Mic! helped too since he’s familiar with auditory-emitter type Quirks. Basil’s good but soundwaves aren’t something you can hit.”

“He must’ve handicaped himself to fit into whatever narrative he created for himself,” Tsuna silently concluded. There was no way the boss of the CEDEF couldn’t handle something as simple as that.

“Present Mic helped out by cancelling Alto Mach’s Quirk but his Quirk isn’t suited for noise-cancelling so we weren’t in the best match-up. God, I can still feel the ringing in my ear. We were hoping Eraserhead would come since he patrols nearby but then you just came out of nowhere! I didn’t see much but there was this sweep of orange light and the villain was down! Crumpled to the floor!”

Tsuna wondered if his body double was Alfin. He couldn't think of anyone else since Basil himself was already in the fight. Considering how fast the dolphin moved, he could’ve easily used the Rain Flame’s tranquility factor to knock the villain out. But Rain Flames were blue. How did he mistake a blue dolphin for him?

“Honestly? If it weren’t for Basil's report, I would’ve thought I was seeing things. You flew off so fast, I think the only thing captured by the media was a  _ misty  _ smoke trail from your fire.”

"Mist?" _Ohhh._ Now he understood what Basil did.

After the, what, seventh? Eighth? Ninth time? They went through Tsuna and his bad luck stumbling into open portals, the Vongola commissioned Mammon, Chrome, and Verde along with their research bureau to create Mist illusions boxes that would contain realistic illusions of Tsuna (which he did  _ not  _ condone because that was creepy!). Unfortunately, the research went cold as the illusions were useless against strong Mist users or people with high enough Flame recognition (which in Tsuna’s circle meant everyone). It seemed that nothing, not even the world’s strongest Mists or scientists, could recreate his power. Not that they didn’t try—or kept trying (Mukuro and Verde, those madmen). The box was only used for public appearances and the occasional interdimensional travel. The illusions couldn’t even put up a decent fight (in mafia standards) and were reliant on the user’s own Flames. At most, the Mist Flames only changed whatever Flame colour the user had to orange so even then, from a visual standpoint, the boxes weren’t used often.

He didn’t know why Reborn insisted on every member of the Vongola with leadership roles to carry it back then, but he realized why  _ now _ .

Sometimes he wondered if Reborn had hyper intuition or future vision like Yuni.

“I see, it must’ve been during one of my brief transits through Japan. Sorry I couldn’t stay and chat that time.”

“It’s no problemo, boss. You’re a hero and an underground one at that. Besides you and Basil must be the only heroes I’ve ever met that apologizes for stuff like this. Except for All Might maybe? But the man’s heroism is on a whole nother level.”

His personality and work ethic must be great because in Tsuna’s mind, he couldn’t attach that gaudy image of red, white, and blue with this messiah figure everyone was talking about. Trying to make sense of the discrepancy between the most boisterous "American" person he's ever seen and the "symbol of peace" gave him a headache. Not that he was one to talk. He listed in the top ten most "wolf in sheep's clothing"-looking dons. Literally. Futa ranked him in the top ten most powerful baby-faced mafia dons in the world. Although he grew out of his doe-eyed and thin stature, comparatively, his features weren’t as hardened as the other dons.

“Well, it should be common courtesy.” Tsuna quickly skimmed the papers on his desk, pretending to find where he had left off. “If there’s nothing else, I’d like to tackle this pile of paperwork sooner rather than later.”

“Aww… kicking me out already?” Borage winked lazily. "Well, I can't help but be a distraction."

Tsuna shook his head letting out an amused sigh. He and Lambo would get along great.

“Alright, alright. I'll give you space,” he said as he walked out. But just before he closed the door, his head poked through the crack. “Oh yeah! We’ve got a welcome dinner planned so come down at eight!”

Tsuna nodded as the door closed. He looked down, the piles of unfinished paperwork staring back at him, the tablet on his desk flickering wildly as _years_ of unread messages and documents came flying in.  He groaned.

It was time for work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I debated whether to merge this and the next chapter together but I feel like meeting Endeavor needs its own chapter just for formatting. I'll upload the second part very soon!


	11. Musutafu: Endeavor Hero Agency (Part II)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aka just Tsuna roasting Enji for most of the chapter

Modern skyscraper with… over thirty floors.

Large tinted panes, probably reinforced but fixed to its frames. No decoys from visual observation.

Satellites and antennas—an agency with both money and backing. Has limelight heroism as well as intelligence and communications. 

Clean exterior and interior. Luxurious.

Surrounding lots are far from building—stands out.

Tsuna thanked the driver and followed Endeavor’s secretary into the building but not before making some quick safety observations. It certainly wasn’t a building he would call "secure" but considering the difference in their professions, it was adequate.

Except for one thing.

Tsuna desperately tried not to stare at the big metal “E” with Hot Wheels style flames sprouting from it placed right above the entrance, his inner fashionista (Reborn) telling him to gauge his eyes out rather than stare at _ that _thing for any longer.

"It's certainly... loud," Tsuna thought.

Don’t get him wrong, he knew he was being judgemental. But the fact that this was a known _public_ figure coupled with his _high_ billboard status (which apparently was _ very _integral to the socio-economic system in this universe), he would’ve thought he’d hire a designer or something. Seriously, were all heroes this gaudy and loud with their presentation? Did they have to be in order to stay on the billboard? Or was this just an accepted design choice in this universe?

Oh, God... what if it was? Next thing you knew, there would be a trend of people wearing pants that didn’t reach their ankles!

He dug his nails into his palms, physically holding himself back from screaming out these questions.

“Is there something bothering you, Cielo?” the secretary asked as they entered the elevator.

He stared at Tsuna’s clenched hands and stiff jaw, sparing him a sympathetic glance. _ It must be hard for a young hero_, he thought, _ the boss doesn’t tone it down for anyone. _

He slid his card in the security slot and pressed the button for Endeavor’s office.

“It’s nothing,” Tsuna replied, straightening his back and giving him a reassuring look. No matter how much his inner self—that was forced to sit through hours of the Vongola architectural historians’ aesthetical rants—screamed, he didn’t want to seem rude.

“Many heroes are intimidated by Endeavor but he’s a fair man,” he tried to console, “he likes heroes with drive and passion and from what we’ve seen on _ Quirks on Location, _you got that in spades!”

“Thank you.” Reborn was going to kill him for being careless enough to be noticed by the media. “Drive and passion, you say? I can certainly see that, it’s quite busy here.”

He saw heroes of various Quirks and costumes moving about—some of them typing away on their computers, others changing shifts from standby to action, and vice versa. He counted over twenty people working here and he doubted there weren’t more in this giant building. It felt weird not scoping out a building before a meeting. Or having his family here with him. It really put into perspective how much he's changed from bumbling civilian to mafia don. He hoped that people wouldn't notice his slight apprehension and think of him as overly paranoid.

“We have over thirty sidekicks working around the clock!” he said with pride as the elevator chimed. “We aren’t one of the top hero agencies in Japan for nothing!”

As they both walked through the row of desks, Tsuna internally sighed at the enormous, heavy dark wooden doors of Endeavor’s office splitting the weird Japanese-European styled walls. Oddly enough, it matched the room. Not the tiled floors though. Or the cubicles.

_After the entrance, this doesn’t even surprise me._ The man’s ego was certainly reflected in his space.

_ Knock. Knock. Knock._

“Endeavor, sir? Cielo's here to see you,” the man said as he reached for the door handle.

“Come in,” replied a deep, muffled voice from behind the door.

He pushed the heavy doors open, revealing what seemed to be a large western-style room with long stretches of space, giving it an empty and cold feeling. An elaborate crystal chandelier hung above the oak coffee table surrounded by plush mahogany armchairs. An enormous Persian carpet stretched from the guest chairs to Endeavor’s Bubinga wood desk at the end of the room. Despite having a giant chandelier, the room was only lit by the large panes on the side of the room, light stretching shadows to the opposite side.

“So finally we meet,” Tsuna thought as he entered the room.

“I’ll give you two some privacy.” The secretary bowed politely as he shut the doors.

Tsuna could only see Endeavor's back standing behind his desk, a flurry of fire roaring around the lines of his costume. His head was mostly obscured by the large tufts of flames circling his shoulders almost like a lion's mane. He had to admit, the man was _ big. _Like, _really_ big. His skin-tight costume outlined his muscles, large and imposing. He wasn’t intimidated but he certainly understood why other people might’ve been. He had a daunting aura around—

“Cielo,” he greeted, turning to face him.

_ Oh..._

_Oh no..._

Forget what he said about that “E”. The true ostentatious one was in front of him.

“_Oh, mio Dio… Porca troia!” _ Tsuna clenched his jaws to refrain from scream-laughing.

His mask was fire—which okay, the past Vongola generation bosses did as well back when he was being judged on his resolve but those were Sky Flames! Not literal fucking fire sitting on your face! Okay, maybe that wasn’t a big deal but was just his face on fire?! _ Why _was his face on fire!? For what purpose!? Didn’t that hurt his skin!? This was _real_ fire, right? Wasn’t this a fire hazard!? Especially in an enclosed space with flammable objects!? No, he couldn’t be that much of a dunce. So he must’ve— OH MY F— Did he… Did he account for that and make everything fireproof just for his fire aesthetic??? If so, why? Why!? Why would he do that?????? Yes, it wasn’t the weirdest thing he’s seen but, like, wasn’t this a public figure?????? Also, weren’t emitter type Quirks something that had to be consciously used or exerted? Did he actually set his face on fire just for his theme??????????? HE HAD SO MANY QUESTIONS-

“Endeavor,” he replied coolly.

Tsuna walked towards the man, confident in his steps, holding out a hand. “It seems we finally meet. I’ve heard a bit about you.”

He stared down at the hand before he let out huff through his nose. “You’re better than most other heroes in my presence.” He took his hand in a firm grip, dwarfing over his. “Good. Too many heroes these days have no backbone.”

I’m sorry, was the flaming beard and mustache combo supposed to be intimidating? No. He refused to believe that that this was anything else but a man committing to his theme. No. He refused to think this was any sane man’s conscious decision for gaining dominance.

“—especially ones called by _ myself_.”

No. _ No. _ Go and put on your clown shoes. Go!

Oh wait, it seemed like he was already wearing it judging from those literal on-fire boots. Why in the world were there shoelaces and how were _ they, _out of all things, not the ones on fire???

“My line of work leaves no room for baseless fear.” Tsuna gritted his teeth, trying to hold himself from laughing or breaking down in hysterics, or both. Probably both.

Endeavor stared at his stiff jaws before turning away. “You say one thing, but your face says otherwise.” He circled around his desk, sitting in one of the plush armchairs. “No matter. Hurry up and sit. We have much to discuss.”

Tsuna followed in suit, sitting across him with his legs crossed, back straight, even shoulders, and weaved hands on his knees. Professional but relaxed. Contrasting with Endeavor’s imposing stance, his legs spread open, taking up all the space, and more, on the already large seat. If these chairs weren’t custom made, he would’ve definitely been spilling out of his chair by now from all that muscle.

_Appearances are one thing, but let's see if he can use them._

“So, Endeavor,” Tsuna started, “I’ve been wondering about this meeting for quite some time now. Although your end never gave me a reason as to why. I suspect this isn’t partnership against villains since you didn’t go through the Hero Association.”

He frowned. Or maybe he was glaring at him? It was hard to tell from the fire obscuring his permanent scowl.

“This matter is more... personal.”

Tsuna raised a brow. “Oh?” Was Fuyumi's guess correct?

“You’re an underground hero unrecognizable even within the underground community. And yet your Quirk would state otherwise.”

“How did you know? I’m fairly certain I kept myself hidden well.” Considering he’s never even been in this dimension before. Maybe Basil? "Although I suppose I made one such blunder a few weeks ago. But I must say, I'm surprised that you would take notice of a small local editorial."

“My kids,” he said simply.

There was little worry in his voice. Was he this neglectful or did he not have a full grasp on the situation that his children nearly died? Or was heroics similar to the mafia where assassinations on children were considered _normal?_

Endeavor moved on. “Your Quirk is better suited for the limelight. Underground work relies on stealth, no?”

Someday it was going to bite him in the ass if he thought Quirks made the profession. “If you’re extending a job proposition at your agency, I must refuse.”

He looked at him as if he’d just insulted him. “I’m not desperate for sidekicks.” He slid a thin file. “I’d like to offer you an _ opportunity_. I’m sure underground heroes don’t get much financial coverage, do they.”

Oh. _ Oh. _ He’s playing _ that _game.

“I’m fairly content with what I have, Endeavor,” Tsuna replied, giving his business smile, drumming his fingers on the armrest. “Despite the stigma against underground heroes, we’re quite resourceful.”

He gave a short noncommittal hum, gesturing to open the file.

“But I am intrigued as to the reason”—he took out the documents, scanning over the words—“why a hero of your calibre would ask for someone like me. Especially as a 'Quirk Specialist Home Tutor'.”

He neatly stacked the papers into a pile and leaned back slightly on his chair, exuding a level of confidence even Xanxus would be proud of. Endeavor, on the other hand, flashed a brief look of surprise at the speed in which the man sitting across him read and processed the information before returning to his glare.

“Don’t take me for a fool.” Ah, so he can recognize useless pleasantries. “I’ve heard from good sources that you wield _ both _ fire and ice Quirks.” Basil, was quite prepared, wasn’t he? “I’ll be frank. My youngest son wields _ two _Quirks; the ability to control ice from my wife and fire from myself. I want you to teach my youngest son how to control his ice.”

“And not the fire?”

“I’m more than capable of handling his left side by myself.” Arrogance, projection, or both? “What I want is for you to teach him to balance—on top of his ice. But before that,"—the fire around him flickered and roared—"I’d like to test your power for myself.”

Oh man, he really didn't hear himself, did he? Or maybe he did but he had his head so far up his own ass that it popped right back into place.

The man grinned as if he was talking about business instead of a human being, a child—_his _ child. It was a twisted form of affection—prideful and cold. And yet, behind it, there was a genuine sense of _ affection. _ A sense of pride any parent would have for their child. But twisted. So, _ so _twisted.

Tsuna couldn’t tell if the man was so resolved in his own decisions that it prevented him from looking past his self-imposed blinders or if he seriously thought isolation and favouritism were some sort of bonding activity. Either way, his actions were toxic.

“—After all, I can’t have my son fraternize with the weak when I’ve already _ invested _so much in him.”

_ That. Tone. _

Tsuna took back everything he said about his own father being similar to this dumpster fire of a man. Iemitsu was a negligent, confusing, horrible father but at least he had enough moral integrity to be considered a decent human being by the mafia standards. At least he didn’t project himself into his child like a pageant mom going through a midlife crisis living vicariously through their children.

Now, Tsuna wasn't a person to judge someone quickly—he was someone who always gave the benefit of the doubt. Innocent until proven guilty. A chance at redemption. At least he tried to be. But he was slowly losing his patience. This was the man that made a sweet child like Natsuo doubt his actions, questioning his own resolve. This was the man that made a sweet girl like Fuyumi grow up faster than she should’ve, forced to shoulder the responsibilities of others. This was the man who isolated his children to the point where one of them felt like fleeing his only home was the better option.

He was so thankful that Reborn taught him mafia etiquette or else he might’ve started something he couldn't end peacefully right then and there. Not that he had a problem with that but he didn’t want to risk hurting the people he's met. Unforeseen consequences can go screw itself.

“A test? Against the number _ two _hero?” He saw Endeavor’s eyes twitch at the title as he smiled through his heated glare.

“You think you can play the passive-aggressive game? I’ve been the reigning champion since I was born. How the hell do you think I haven’t gone insane from Reborn’s training?” Tsuna thought devilishly to himself, tilting his head innocently.

“May I ask what kind of test it’ll be? A show of strength? A sparring session? And might know the limitations and parameters of this test?”

“A one on one battle. I’ll provide the location so you can use your Quirk properly against me. I saw you once before, years ago.” Basil sure got around with that doppelganger box, didn't he? “Usually, other heroes don’t leave a lasting impression but I was intrigued by your unnatural flames. I saw your sidekick’s as well.”

“Basil is my trusted _partner,_” Tsuna said, feeling the orange heat flaring in his eyes. He knew that wasn't considered an insult in this world, but it still irked him hearing that.

Endeavor was professional enough not to scoff. “Your _ partner’s _as well.” He must’ve not been used to someone interrupting him. “Though it doesn’t matter. I want you to use both your Quirks—”

“Please have this in writing,” Tsuna interrupted holding a hand up.

Endeavor clicked his tongue, the grip on his armrest tightening. “I _ wasn’t _ finished_._”

Oh, he knew. “I’ve had experiences where verbal agreements have led me to unfortunate outcomes. I’d like to have a written contract for our fight. After all, I can’t have the number _two_ hero suing my agency if I were to accidentally injure him or the property.”

"If you’re trying to burn holes into my head, please consult Kyoya or Xanxus first before you even try," he thought, smiling even brighter, feigning concern. "Man-children. The most prevalent type of men with authority in any universe. So easy to piss them off with their ego."

Enji took a deep breath and slowly let it out as if trying to reign in his bubbling annoyance, eyes never once leaving him. “You are quite… something, Cielo.”

“I’ll choose to take that as a compliment.”

“...”

“Anyways, if we’re done here please send over the documents to my office.” Tsuna got up swiping the proposition file off the table. “I hope you have a good day, Endeavor. It was an honour meeting the man second to All Might.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tsuna's inner fashionista is me. Hori's designs are memorable and I love them ironically but fuck if they aren't (charmingly) stupid


	12. Terms and Conditions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly set up for the fight + some worldbuilding and foreshadowing!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully, everybody is okay despite the recent developments. Please stay safe at home everyone! And remember to thank the people working in the service and food industry, hospitals (of any kind), sanitation and filtration, researchers, volunteers, and all the other wonderful people who are still working!

“Yep, everything’s in order,” Borage said, eyes scanning over the document. “The finalized contract includes health and liability insurance—quite generous, actually." He flipped a page. "A top ten’s budget's really something, huh.” He placed the papers down on the desk sitting in between them. “Nothing looks suspicious or out of place.”

Tsuna nodded in thanks, pulling out a pen and scanning over the document one last time.

Although Borage was the youngest in the agency (relative to both age and employment) Rosemary vouched for his skills in deciphering any hidden clauses or loopholes in contracts. Tsuna didn’t suspect Endeavor’s agency to screw him over—a group was still separate from its leader—and besides Endeavor didn’t strike him as a _dishonest_ man. But it was always good to have a second and third eye to look things over; especially if those eyes were much more familiar with this world than his.

He was relieved when they finally got the major terms out of the way. Making contracts were a pain and it didn't help that he lacked the context for this world's linguistic connotations. For example, heroes had specific types of equipment called "support gear". At first, Tsuna thought these were, you know, _supports _as in braces, gloves, or something like PPE. It wasn't until Borage mentioned that hero support gear could range from a simple eyepiece to literal fucking caltrops, chainsaws, and guns that Tsuna just accepted complete and utter confusion as his default state.

Honestly, at that point, what was the difference between support gear and regular combat equipment? Was it because a "hero" was wielding them? If so, that arose even more questions. Why did police officers have guns and tasers while heroes didn't unless it was a part of their Quirk or aesthetic? —which was a whole other topic that made him want to cry. If the answer was "qualifications" or "training" Tsuna swore he was going to chuck his desk out the damn window.

_...I think I've been cooped up here for too long._

As for the match itself, considering that Endeavor found him through his Quirk, the use of it was obvious. However, both agencies went through multiple drafts trying to determine which support equipment pieces should be allowed. On one hand, support equipment brought out the best in a hero. On the other hand, it seemed a little excessive for what was essentially an assessment for a tutoring gig. Both parties decided that _dependant _support equipment that aided their Quirks without being a weapon itself, were allowed. For example, they could use a device that concentrated their Quirks to get better accuracy and power, however, independent pieces like brass knuckles or knives were banned. There were a lot of logistical loopholes so they eventually settled on writing down any support equipment they were going to use and have it approved by all parties.

While discussing the details, Borage had asked him if his rings held any significance or if it was merely for show. Tsuna was quite surprised at the man's perceptiveness. Not many would look at jewelry and go "is that weapon?" but Borage said he didn't feel as if Tsuna was the type to buy or wear frivolous things so he determined that it must be significant in some way. Besides, apparently some heroes had weirder choices of support gear—if that was even possible.

But remembering the maelstrom of chaos that was Endeavor's costume, he quickly changed his mind.

Tsuna confirmed his suspicions but didn’t elaborate on why or how, only that it was not an independent piece of equipment. After demonstrating that the rings' only (visible) function was creating a small ball of fire, Borage respectfully didn’t pry any further.

But, unfortunately, that meant he had to leave his emergency gun and blades safely hidden in his box. Not that he used them much but Hayato insisted, naming the set of weapons "the idiot remover". It even had its title engraved on the side in G-Letters. Takeshi was there when he presented it. Takeshi was laughing at the time and dedication it must've taken to do that. Takeshi was not laughing when he found himself at the end of a very sharp idiot remover.

_Good times. Takeshi hounded Hayato for weeks trying to get him into sword fighting because of that._

Should he be worried? Yes. But he had long since accepted that his friends' playful banter and their murderous tendencies went hand in hand.

Anyways, he should probably get new shoes too since his current ones had a hidden bamboo blade in between the soles. And his cape too. Lord knows how many things he stored in those pockets like a chipmunk readying for winter.

Actually... maybe not. More layers equalled more protection and he couldn't always rely on his Oath Flames to keep his bones together (he swore he must've been the only person to break their bones so often from fighting). Not to mention his cape, the physical one he wore and not the one made from his Flames, was one of his favourite Leon-made pieces he owned.

It was supposed to be a joke, really, after the whole "Neo Vongola Primo" fiasco. It started with Hayato, with the help of Haru, making him an extremely accurate copy of Primo's cloak for the Vongola's Annual Christmas Gala. Unfortunately, the cape was torn, burned, and riddled with bullets the day after. So suffice it to say the two weren't very happy. If it weren't for Chrome, Haru might have gotten her hands on the imprisoned don before the interrogator did (Kyoko encouraged it actually).

Afterwards, for some impossible Herculean leap in logic, Reborn had, or rather, _suggested_ to his partner in crime, Leon, to make a mock cape for him. It was probably revenge for calling the title "Neo Vongola Primo" stupid but even as a joke, Reborn wasn't one to half-ass things. Anything made from the magical lizard—_seriously how did he do all those things???_—was a guaranteed kevlar against any external forces. Leon had purposefully made the cape different from its original design with a small split at the back and the inclusion of one of the best features any clothing could have: Pockets!

So jokes on them! He liked the cape! It was warm, comfortable, and honestly, if he could tap into his teenage self again for a moment? It was—felt _awesome_. In fact, he may or may not have been caught making _whoosh_ noises in his room—

_N_ _ope, nope, nope, let's just bury that memory deep into the cranial abyss!_

_—_So keep the cape.

What else...? Oh! He should get his cuff buttons switched out too since it concealed needles laced in fast-acting neurotoxin. His tie clip was also similar in that aspect but it could be easily removed so that wasn't an issue. Actually, he should get a new tie as well since—

...

...

...

...maybe he should just consider a whole wardrobe change.

Besides that, there was also the matter of which abilities he would showcase. Several things were obvious: No Natsu or Oath Flames meant no Burners, Canons, or Streams. The former decision was met with a swift tailwhip to his side but he wasn't about to risk using all his trump cards at once or to try and explain how Natsu was both independent from and a part of him (not to mention the Sky Flame's harmony factor!).

The latter issue was more of a moral thing. Although he no longer needed his headsets, contact lens, and gloves to activate or gauge his Flames, minimizing the output to a safe, indoor-level freely while fighting was still difficult. There was a reason why the tenth generation Vongola was unanimously agreed upon to be powerful enough to destroy the world if desired by the majority of the underground; each member being akin to a "nuclear bomb passing through". Trying to control his blasts was like placing a funnel under a high-pressure valve. _Technically_ it could be done but the amount of concentration he needed (not to mention the potential risks) wasn't worth it. Flames were different to regular fire after all and he doubted Endeavor had Flame-proof barriers to protect the spectators (pressure-safe maybe, but those weren't immune to a Flame's natural attribute).

Usually, that filter would be his Oath Ring; a ring specially made for him by Talbot using a mix of his and Enma's Flames. It was a gift from the Shimon for his actual inheritance ceremony to signify the "unity between the Sky and the Earth"—by Talbot's words. The ring allowed him to gain greater control over his Flames by condensing or diffusing the output. Unfortunately, he couldn't quite master the Earth Flame's full gravitational capabilities like when he and Enma fought Daemon Spade.

Other than that, he had his Sun Flames but his secondary attribute wasn't strong enough for combat.

Tsuna mentally scratched his head. He didn't think he had these many abilities until he had to actually write them out—considering that Flames just came with certain abilities and knowledge that were imbedded as common sense in his universe. 

_I can probably still use my softer Flames for agility... so basically I'm going in with Flame-enhanced punches and my hyper intuition. Maybe ice too? It is funny to see the panic when they realize they can't just melt it with heat._

God, he really needed someone other than Reborn to be his combat instructor.

Although Tsuna was fairly impartial to the limitations, Endeavor seemed to be a little disappointed with them. Endeavor may not have been desperate for a tutor but given the chance, ambitious people weren’t ones to throw away potential. It didn’t matter how well he did, just that he did _something_.

While he explained that his "Quirk" was difficult to minimize damage and thus would abstain from using it, Endeavor's secretary _kindly_ reminded him that he _shouldn't _go all out regardless. He also mentioned something about "hellfire"? Tsuna wasn't sure if it meant Endeavor could fan out his flames in a large radius or if it meant that his fire could get even hotter—perhaps both—but Tsuna wasn't eager to find out. Hopefully, he wasn't dealing with another "I want to fight him at his maximum power" type of guy; he really didn't like fighting extremists.

Too bad fate hated his entire existence and made the mafia full of them.

Otherwise, the legal process was as tiresome and mundane as any other contract. Though there were two parts to it that even he was tentative to despite agreeing to the terms.

The first clause was time. Three rounds with three minutes each. Of course, normal fights would realistically only last a few seconds at most. But considering the theatrics of heroism, both agencies extended the matches to three minutes. To be fair, he said a minute at most in the first draft before Rosemary vetoed it saying how she’d rather not see a bloodbath on a weekend. Smart. The less time he had, the more vicious his fighting style got.

The second clause was the inclusion of spectators. Both Tsuna and Endeavor disagreed with this but both agencies kindly reminded them that they would need a third-party member, as well as one representative from each agency, spectating for impartial judgement and safety.

Apparently, there were a few instances in the past where limelight heroes would use their public image to encourage fans to shame or deface underground heroes after a dispute of some sort. The reasons varied as to why but since when did bandwagoning ever need actual, substantial evidence?

From what Rosemary had told him, there was a large scandal about a decade ago which became the catalyst to the Hero Exoneree Prevention Act, a law which protected underground heroes from limelight heroes who, if for some reason, wanted to destroy the former's credibility. The scandal was about a moderately famous hero falsely accusing their ex-partner of first-degree murder and spoliation of evidence. The "evidence" that arose wasn't all that compelling in his eyes but he understood that time affected how stories were told. Since the accuser was someone with some degree of credibility, he could see how an emotionally compromised civilian would believe such lies—especially considering that the victim was a beloved hero in her own right.

Unfortunately, that led a misinformed, gullible legion of fans to stalk and attack the now late underground hero. It wasn't until a group of independent journalists exposed the truth nearly half a year after the hero's death that the Hero Association, as a whole, finally changed as to how underground heroes were partnering up with the limelight ones.

Of course, if that was it, then at least the story would end with a thinly veiled happy ending. A story of corruption and sacrifice which led to a stronger community and amended the legal system.

But those were endings only comic books and fairy tales got. The reality Tsuna heard from Rosemary was so much crueller.

As she finished the story, Rosemary sighed. "Of course, the Medusa Act is quite possibly the only positive thing to come out of this but even so, the prize is nothing more than rust painted gold."

"What do you mean?" Tsuna asked, gripping the UHPPS's partnership contact form.

"The truth those young reporters found weren't just about the allegations. They also publically revealed the bribery problem circulating in the legal system. The discovery was too big to bury again."

"I see. Since Medusa was falsely accused, not just defaced on media, but also in court, it stands to reason that the judge was also in cohorts with the malefactor..."

Tsuna trailed off, noting how the usually calm and poise Rosemary bounced her knee like a jackhammer as if her entire body was trying to distract itself from her growing fury. Still, she kept up her professionalism. Besides the slight crease on her forehead, her stoic face masked her emotions well.

_I wonder if she somehow has a personal connection with this case..._

"The Hero Association used that fact as a distraction to ensure the public focused on governmental corruption and steered far away from damaging the public perception of heroes. Instead of seeing that 'this hero is corrupt' they made it so that the phrase associated with this case became 'this person who _happened_ _to be a hero_ is corrupt'."

"The former is a direct link to heroism as a whole and the latter is circumstantial. But if they didn't..."

"Heroes would lose face," she finished for him. "It would tell the public that heroism could be corrupted no matter how many 'All Mights' there were to save them—that the link between villainy and heroism isn't all that binary. It would've finally settled in the public consciousness that a loud and brash villain wasn't the worst out there, _heroes_ were."

He placed his hand over Natsu's box, the vibrations of his low grumble beneath his palms mirroring his own.

"That's not all they did, is it?"

She nodded. "They suppressed media coverage as much as they could. Make the public forget. Make this 'just another case'. The sad truth is that it worked. I highly doubt anyone outside of the history and law departments remember this story now. But even then..."

Tsuna's heart bled fire with each beat, the heat making it unbearable to sit still. He was reminded of Enma, Simon, and their families. Having felt their emotions and seen their memories—the hurt, the betrayal, the fear—he could feel anger bubbling and growling inside his throat at the injustice. He swore he could feel the sear of the orange burning in his eyes. Natsu was largely the same.

He took a deep breath. Losing his temper wouldn't accomplish anything—he'd probably frighten Rosemary instead. Not to mention his emotional influence over Natsu.

The people to blame were either dead or imprisoned. He didn't like how the Hero Association tried to push the blame to maintain their image but in this world, where blind loyalty was akin to Simson's hair yet also its Achilles' heel, he understood why they did it. Such a large rift would invite more chaos and corruption, the collapse of society.

Would he have handled this situation differently? Most definitely. But this wasn't about him. He shouldn't make it about him. 

It took a full minute for him to calm down, hearing Natsu's mewls.

"But we do," Tsuna whispered. "At least... we do."

Tsuna quickly shook the memory away. He had a tendency to overthink and care too much—as Mukuro would say. Thinking about it would make him needlessly angry again and an overly emotional boss was a vulnerable one.

As Cielo worked under the UHPPS, the government required any partnership or extended contact to be approved by the system with a member of their legal team representing them. It fell under the False Accusation Act section two subsection nine: Wrongful Accusations and Deliberate Manipulation of an Underground Hero Using Media And/Or Public Cancellation. Which eventually became the Hero Exoneree Prevention Act, or Medusa Act, named after the late hero.

It was a pain but working inside a system meant following its rules so Tsuna had no objections. Endeavor also agreed to these terms but wanted to include one more thing: a guest. He reasoned that if this was going to be a spectated fight, they might as well. Tsuna had a sneaking suspicion that this wasn't completely Endeavor's idea but agreed to it nevertheless. Truth be told, Tsuna had no idea who to invite. Rosemary as the _de jure_ leader was the Vongola Network's representative. But a guest? He briefly humoured his thoughts on bringing Natsuo—the boy would no doubt be thrilled to see some heroes in action—but thought better of it. He wasn't about to put a traumatized child in front of the source of their fears. Perhaps Borage?

Otherwise, both agencies and the UHPPS agreed on the terms and conditions.

As he signed his name on the finalized contract, an epiphany hit him.

_If he wants to see my power, why the hell is he making me fight him instead of giving him a showcase of some sort? It's not like I'm going to be fighting his kid or anything. I'm basically a glorified counsellor._

And if for some reason, and he _highly_ doubted it, Endeavor thought he was going to fight seriously against an innocent child, Tsuna might actually grab him, chuck him through the portal connecting their dimensions, and let his Mists handle him. They probably wouldn't need much convincing either. He certainly knew Chrome wouldn't.

“I’ll make sure you get a bonus this year,” Tsuna promised as he slid the signed documents in a file. "By the way, do you want to be my plus one for the fight?"

He certainly wasn’t this generous usually but considering that Borage knew the linguistic nuances of this universe far better than he did and sat through hours explaining every detail to him, well, the Vongola always paid back their debts in full.

Borage blinked owlishly before a grin crept up his face as he bounced from leg to leg, making him seem more childlike than he already was.

“Boss, have I told you how much I love my job?”

"So I assume that's a yes?" Tsuna gave him an amused glance. “See it as my thanks for taking the time to help out.”

He waved his hands nonchalantly. “It's cool. Rosemary can’t reprimand me for helping you.” 

Although Tsuna found his casual mannerisms welcoming, if he worked for any other boss, his familiarity would’ve had him chastised. Good thing he worked for an interdimensional mafia don!

“By the way, if it’s not intrusive, why are you doing this?” he asked as Tsuna handed the documents over. “I know you don't care about the billboard but… Endeavor’s no joke. He’s not second to All Might for his personality, you know.”

It really did say something about the man when people outside his immediate circle said the same thing that his own family had said. But on the other hand, that also spoke volumes about his power. Considering that limelight heroism was largely considered a celebrity sport—_seriously how did national and international security work in this universe?—_reputation was a big factor in success. If he became and maintained the number two spot without the contingency of positive press, his work ethic and strength must’ve been outstanding. But then again all publicity was “good” publicity and this world’s etymology of “heroism” was quite different than his.

“I asked myself the same thing at first.” Tsuna weaved his fingers together, a flicker of orange glinting in his eyes, the weight of the letter not lost on him. _ “Hmm… _ But to put it simply, I admire resolve.”

Borage tilted his head in confusion. “Resolve?”

He hummed in affirmation. “My reasons are, I must admit, fairly unprofessional... Well, regardless, I’m an adept fighter. You don’t need to worry.”

_ “Yeah… _Not that I doubt your strength but I’ll gather some clips of Endeavor’s fights for you.”

“No need, I’ve already analyzed his fighting style”—Borage sputtered—“are you alright?”

“Ya— yep, I’m fine,” Borage replied, nearly choking on his own spit. “It’s only been, what a day? Jeez, underground heroes are next level.”

Tsuna chuckled, leaning back and crossing his legs. “I’ve only gathered the basics from what I could filter through the most recent public archives. I don’t have the full scope of his abilities as of yet, I’m not that impressive.” —_or Reborn. _

If there were a few things he could say about Endeavor that placed him above the bulky “I’m big so you better respect me even though I treat people like garbage” type of men he had unfortunately met are his skills, power, and general apathy towards mass media.

First and foremost, that mistake of an aesthetic of his wasn’t just for show—thank _ God_. Some villains seemed to be paralyzed in fear in some of the reports he’s watched while others headed straight towards him like a moth to a flame. Regardless of if they saw the man as frightening or ridiculous, more importantly, he drew attention away from innocent civilians.

Perhaps it was just due to his inner fashionista that made him gloss over it the first time but _damn_ this man was built. His muscles, his height, his body didn't look real—almost as if those over-exaggerated comic book poses came to life. He had hoped Endeavor was just using his body merely an intimidation tactic as he'd seen with some of the other brawnier men he's dealt with but he knew that he had a better chance at replacing Xanxus's guns with pink plastic than _that_.

His Quirk was impressive too considering that control of one’s own Quirk(s) wasn’t an inherent thing as evidenced by Fuyumi's overuse of hers and the bits and pieces of what he's heard about Toya from the pair of siblings. Tsuna didn’t know if Endeavor had trouble controlling his powers but he was impressed nonetheless with his versatility. Apparently his Quirk was more than just spouting fire from his body; he could manipulate it: the shape, pressure, and temperature.

In one video, he saw him create a ball of flames in his hands before it stretched and condensed into a lance, piercing the air as he shot it forward, hitting dead-centre into an aerial target already over thirty metres away from him. All within about three seconds. Considering how fast fights could get, three seconds wasn’t as impressive but the amount of work that goes into those three seconds did. It not only did it reveal his skills and the potential of his Quirk but also that he could quickly process information in a fight while keeping civilians safe.

And that one move where he superheats the metal he’s walking on to climb vertically on buildings? That was genius. He knew how to precisely control the pressure and heat of his flames to manipulate his surroundings. Tsuna had to admit if he was given that Quirk, he probably wouldn’t have thought of using it like that. Endeavor excelled at long-range and close-combat scenarios with or without his Quirk—that bulk wasn’t only for show. His movements held weight but weren't held back by it. For example, he could rush up to an opponent and literally _ punch _ him a block away. That _ wasn’t _ his Quirk. That was just his _ pure _might. Considering that he could use his fire from a distance, Tsuna didn’t know if the man was brave and confident or stupid and narcissistic enough to prefer close combat.

Although, comparatively, he was still a far cry from the strongest person he’s seen or fought. Of course, it was a _ bit _unfair considering that the power systems of their respective universes vastly differed. Still, at least this wasn’t a case of media sensationalism or the Association’s favouritism. One thing he disliked more than an arrogant man was a deceitful one. Despite being a neglectful and toxic father, he did his job as a “hero” well.

Well, _ that _was also up for debate. Did he arrest many villains? Yes. Were his arrest numbers so high that it rivalled Japan’s conviction rate? Also yes. Did he save many people? Subsequently yes. Did they like him? No. Did he like them? Probably not from his permanent scowl. Did the press like him? Oh, they liked tearing him apart like a bleeding fish to a piranha. Did he do anything to remedy his public perception? Even a shitty beauty influencer making a fake apology video tried better than him.

Tsuna could definitely relate to the feeling of annoyance and disregard towards the press and outsiders being the centre of spotlight himself in the underworld. But _ damn. _Shouldn’t the number two hero in all of Japan be a little bit more charismatic?

_ But still, he’s not the number two for nothing. He commands the field effortlessly with or without others around. I can’t underestimate him. _

“Man, I wish your fight could’ve been labelled as a company outing. We'd all love to see that fight,” Borage groaned.

“I doubt it’ll be all that interesting. He’s requested me to show off my fighting prowess. It won’t be as showy as you might think.”

Especially since the young don preferred swift, discreet knockouts. XX-Burners were great and all but if he could immobilize an enemy by punching him with a fist full of Sky Flames, he’d rather do that. Being a Vongola and having Sky Flames drew eyes to him naturally, he really didn't need any more attention.

“Correction: he also wanted to see your Quirk. Oh, by the way, what _ is _ your Quirk exactly? I—If you don’t mind me asking?” he quickly added.

Tsuna stared at him for a split second, his consciousness returning back to the current conversation. “I assumed you knew.”

“I saw your _ smoke trails. _ And fire and ice don't exactly account for speed. For all I know you can have, I don’t know, a smoke-like teleportation Quirk too! Basil had some weird set of Quirks so I honestly can’t rule anything out at this point.”

Tsuna perked up. This was an opportunity to hear more about Basil’s alias for him!

“Didn’t Basil give you or the agency an explanation?”

HE scratched his head. “Ah… well… maybe? I joined pretty late— around the time Basil started taking on long-term missions actually. It seemed rude to ask since he’s _really _serious when it came to privacy. And since I work in the contract law division, I don’t have the authority to look at an underground hero’s files until relevant. I doubt it would’ve mattered anyway since our database wasn’t completely accurate.”

“Database?” Well, that would've been good to know for his research.

He looked at him slightly confused but remembered how little the man knew about the Japanese Hero System due to his last "mission".

“The Hero Association keeps a national database on all registered heroes which can be accessed by the public. It’s much more limited than the one used for licensed agencies, obviously. The UHPPS goes a step further for heroes like yourself. We usually use it to find good team-ups in case of a large scale villain attack or to track down rogue heroes, you know, the usual. _ Yours, _however, only outlined a fire Quirk, not the ice—”

_ I should apologize to Basil for screwing up a good alias. _

“—We usually get that for younger sidekicks since they haven’t seen the limits to their Quirks for long but underground heroes are usually outliers anyway. Frankly, I’m more surprised that Basil kept it under wraps for this long.”

“He’s very dependable,” Tsuna commented fondly. “My Quirk is controlling fire and ice, an emitter type. Nothing more.” _—that I'll divulge._

"What’s it called?" _Called? _

His face scrunched up in confusion and shrugged. “I don’t know? Flames and Ice?”

“What!?” Borage paused after his outburst, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “No, no, no. Wait. Was your ice Quirk a recent development? Like, before you registered as a hero,” he asked, giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Tsuna shook his head.

Borage looked aghast as if he was a noblewoman who’d just heard about a promiscuous court scandal in the early eighteenth century.

Were names of Quirks that big of a deal to even underground heroes? He understood the legitimate purposes for it but Quirk names were a thing mostly for limelight heroism, right? Also, what was wrong with just "Flames and Ice"?

“C’mon. Even Basil had a cool Quirk name: Pyromarine!”

Tsuna immediately wondered if Rosemary named it since Basil would’ve probably gone with something like Tranquillità di piovere Fiamme, Ame no honō no shizukesa, or the Tranquility of the raining Flames. Yes, he knew the Vongola men had horrible naming schemes, forgive them.

Tsuna propped up his arm on his chair, leaning against it. “I never really gave it much thought.”

Borage looked like he was on the verge of a conspiracy, pursed lipped and hands clasped together.

“Okay!" He clapped. "Then let’s name it! How about... freezer burn? Burning point? Flux Celsius? That last one sounds cool but doesn’t fit your whole”—he gestured to Tsuna’s body—“dapper gentleman aesthetic you’ve got going on there. Maybe something with Mister? Nah, but that's got nothing to do with your Quirk. Dual Element? Maybe but that's too vague... What about? Nah, that's stupid. Maybe..._ Hmm...” _

Tsuna chuckled. Borage had his arms crossed over his slightly hunched body, concentration drawing a pout from him. He swore he could see the steam coming out his ears. Seeing him like this, it finally clicked as to why he found the man so amusing; it was like talking with an older Natsuo. 

“Enough about me, we can postpone that till later,” Tsuna joked.

He grinned mischievously. “For you? _ Gladly._”

He nearly stuttered. “What’s your Quirk?”

His teasing grin crumpled into an awkward, almost embarrassed smile. He hunched his shoulders, looking away before taking a shy glance.

“Well, it’s nothing all that amazing to be honest. But... watch this.”

Tsuna blinked twice as the man’s once swept-back amber hair shifted to a blue, then blonde, then to purple as the locks stretched to his lower back. Borage laughed nervously, scratching his chin as he flipped a few stray curls.

“I can grow and change my hair colour at will depending on my condition. I can’t go past my legs though or keep doing it for too long; it increases my blood flow too much and then y’know—_ kek! _” He slid his finger across his neck.

He took out the hair tie on his wrist and lazily tied up his hair as it went back to its natural amber. Was it just him or was it a shade darker?

“So yeah, nothing special but hey, at least I don’t gotta worry about hair troubles, am I right?” He stiffly laughed, a slight red tint dusting his ears.

Tsuna, on the other hand, shook his head and spoke with utmost sincerity. “Really? I think that’s amazing.”

Considering that he wasn’t using Mist Flames or any tools derived from it, such powers were extremely useful in his eyes.

_ “Eyy… _C’mon no need to be humble. This is nothing compared to your Quirk.” He pinched a stray strand between his fingers. 

“I’m only being truthful— especially considering this _ is _an agency for underground work. Your Quirk would be very useful in espionage.”

He froze, opening his mouth and closing it as if his words were taken from his tongue. “You... can’t be serious.”

“Maybe not in more volatile missions but honestly espionage wasn’t created with combat as the priority. Besides, even if we were going on the basis of combat ability, the right weapon is as good as any Quirk. Last time I checked a bullet through a man's head would still kill him. Right tools for the right job.

"With your Quirk, your pursuers would easily lose you in a crowd. Unless your entire identity and personas had been compromised, pursuers don’t look for details; they look for the obvious: hair length and colour, clothes, skin colour, the basic profile—if even that. If you can master quick change, I don’t see why you couldn’t be out on the field. Government agents had been doing that for years...in the past before Quirks came about.”

_Got to remember that this is a whole other world. _

“...”

“...”

“I— _um..._”

Tsuna watched as Borage’s auburn hair gained a red glint to its edges before magenta bloomed from its roots, washing his entire head in a bright glow. Wait, no. He was actually blushing.

“W—Well! I should _um_— do my work now!” He shot up from his seat, jerking slightly when his foot caught the leg of the chair. “C—Can’t have Rosemary think I’m any more of a slacker! Not that I don’t do my work! Ha. Ha. Ha...”

He stumbled his way to the door, eyes darting from his boss to his escape.

“Have a good day, boss!” He swung open the door, nearly running into Rosemary on his way out.

“S—Sorry!”

_...and_ he left.

  
  


Rosemary stared curiously at the blur that rushed past her, her hand still frozen from when she was about to knock. She slowly lowered her arm, turning her head to look at the man sitting very confused behind his desk.

“What did you say to him?” Rosemary gave Tsuna a harmless yet slightly accusatory look, noting his confusion. “Do you know of his Quirk?”

“Yes? We were just talking about it actually,” he slowly replied as if he was treading on a minefield. “He can grow his hair and change the colour at will.”

She sighed as she shook her head, closing the door behind her and placing more dreaded files on his desk. “His hair colour is also influenced by another factor: his emotions.”

“Oh. _Oh._”

“Let’s just say, his natural hair colour isn’t amber.” She spoke in an exasperated yet affectionate tone.

“Anyways, we have a request from the Hero Association on a minor arson case.”

“Yes.” Tsuna scrolled through his email, picking out the low-priority one. “I read it this morning. Wouldn’t such cases usually be handled by other agencies?” Or, heaven forbid, the police?

There had been multiple reported cases of minor vandalism on the back of buildings. The serial arsonist wasn’t registered as a major threat as, at most, the walls in the back of establishments were burnt. Of course, it was dangerous as the fire could spread but for some reason, the fire was always put out before any of the employees noticed. No one had yet to claim any bodily injuries. The increase in threat came from the fact that the arsonist was moving closer and closer to more populated areas with increasing severity of property damage.

There was some CCTV footage capturing who the police assumed was an adolescent male in baggy clothing that covered their face and body well. They seemed to operate near and around Hosu and Musutafu City. Post investigation of the crime scenes and gaining eye witness testimonies, they concluded that the villain was probably some young pyromaniac setting things on fire for fun. A possible case of Quirk suppression.

_ There isn’t much of a link between each of the locations or their residents. I can rule out passion and thrill since the locations aren’t hotspots and the arsonist went out of their way to snuff out the flames themselves. They may not be a threat now but, if my theory holds true, unhealthy coping methods will lead them to worse things... _

Rosemary let out an annoyed huff through her nose. “Usually yes. But we sometimes have cases like these where the Association asks us to locate and, if possible, either trap or lead the villain to a hero of their choosing. It’s a win-win situation for both parties. The Association gets a villain off the streets and the hero gets publicity.”

“Billboard manipulation and playing favourites, why am I not surprised.” Tsuna resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

This seemed too much like a back alley job except, of course, it was completely legal in this weird celebrity-obsessed universe.

"Isn't that disadvantageous for us though?"

Rosemary shook her head. “In the UHPPS’s archives, if the villain was caught by us, our agency will be noted in the arrest files, however, to the public the credit will be given to whatever hero they want to boost their rankings for. Or at times, the Association is bribed so that the hero can maintain their quota.” So straightforward.

“I wasn’t aware of such a quota system.”

She opened her mouth and closed it, shaking her head. “It’s a _de facto_ system to prevent people from mishandling their hero license. During license renewals, your arrest numbers are listed and coupled with your public perception and billboard ranking; with low enough numbers, there’s a chance for penalties, suspension, or revocation. This usually doesn’t apply to underground heroes but there are always rare exceptions.”

_“Hmm…”_ He scrolled through the arsonist file, the footage of the disguised villain swerving their head left and right and quietly darting off clutching their arms—_in pain?—_playing automatically. “This is different than what I’m used to. Did Basil do these types of ‘requests’ as well?”

“The Hero Association is fond of underground heroes for a reason. They don’t need to face public backlash and the media, after all, if something goes wrong. They had Basil work overtime due to his Quirk,” she added with distaste.

_ The tranquillity effect would certainly be advantageous in this world where public capture is a priority. _

“I suspect they’ll do the same with me.”

She didn’t give any indication of affirmation but the answer was obvious.

“They found out about your status too quickly for my liking. But you don’t need to go out of your way for this. It’s a case sent to every underground hero agency near the vicinity.”

Tsuna crossed his arms, tapping his finger. It didn’t sit right with him to just leave it up to others. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Rosemary narrowed her eyes, pushing up her glasses. “I’m serious. Be advised that chasing after such cases will blind what’s in front of you.”

“I’m aware.”

“...”

Oh no… She had those scolding eyes. It was like the ones his mother would give him when he accidentally hurt himself over something stupid she told him to be careful of. Or the ones Chrome, Kyoko, and Haru would give him when they discovered he got hurt during a raid. Or the ones Reborn would shoot him when he tried to escape his responsibilities.

“Cielo,” she called with a sharpness edging her tone. “I need you to swear to me that you won’t go chasing after such a minor case when you have something bigger like _ Endeavor _in front of you.”

Was he that easy to read? “I won’t, I swear.”

Christ, no wonder she was in charge. The weight of her stares alone could probably bring a lesser don to his knees.

“....very well, I’ll hold you to that.”

She bowed and just before she left added, “Basil told me about your tendency to get involved—intentional or not. So for your own sake, unless there’s no one around, please allow other heroes to take care of it. Have a good day.”

The door closed.

“I’m not going to jump in at first sign of danger,” he mumbled to himself, reading the new files she’d left.

_ What’s this weird sense of déjà vu I’m feeling? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me just say how much a delight it was to read your comments in the last chapter! Channelling that salt was fun. Thank you so much! Also, like, this story blew up with that chapter thank you so much?????? +1700 kudos like WHAT????? The comments?????? Bookmarks??? Hits?????
> 
> Seriously, you make my day so much ❤


	13. Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a chapter illustrating Rei's chaotic mind, I do not condone victim blaming! Additionally, nothing gets extreme but I'll put in warnings anyways.
> 
> **WARNING:** Suicidal thoughts

“A tutor...?” she mumbled.

Enji nodded. “The boy needs to learn some independence. He can’t cling to his mother like some sloth for all his life.”

He walked towards the couch where she sat, raising his arm slightly—she instinctively flinched—before crossing it instead, turning slightly away from her.

“Rest assured our boy won’t be taught by some C-list hero. He has an annoying personality but shows potential.”

Rei could barely acknowledge the bubbling anger trying to manifest deep, deep inside the pits of her stomach; her rage buried under the sands of time. Maybe even back a year ago she would’ve cared—_truly_ cared. Felt that sense of protectiveness coursing through her veins, disregarding her own security for theirs, like when she nursed Toya's wounds or defended Shoto all those years ago.

_Wait, had it already been that long?_

Her consciousness had been glazed behind a fog, its voice muted by the mist, stuffed like cotton down her throat. She hated, _ hated _how he referred to _his_ decisions about their children like _she_ was somehow involved—as if she consented in being his co-conspirator.

_You missed the feeling._

But at least it was something. Being angry, this anxiety and uncertainty gripping her heart in a searing vice—where the simple act of breathing felt like a sin? It was tiring. She didn’t want to feel vengeful but it was all she had.

_A convenient excuse._

It was probably the only emotion she felt other than apathy. And at this point, she'd rather beg God to feel that clammy, sticky anger reeking of sweat and bile glued to her skin like tar rather than the latter.

The snake had already come and gone, only peeking its head occasionally to see her struggle. The venom in her veins already killed her spirit. Struggled how she might, she was nothing but a paralyzed deer awaiting death—a slow death—watching as her young struggled to survive on trembling legs. She couldn’t bring herself to yell anymore. No more _why_-s or _how_-s, no more blood clogging her throat from the voices that tried to climb and scratch the walls for escape. Just _no more. _She could barely make out the serpent from the black circling her vision.

She felt cold. Was it always this cold? Her frail body was a weakness onto itself but this was a different sort of cold. A type of cold that couldn't be remedied with a blanket, no—it was a type of cold that leeched her very being. It was the type of cold after the wash of white-hot dread flushing down her back. A type of cold that made her stare emptily into the ground below, only wondering if her blood still ran warm when her body painted the pavement.

_Hollow. Empty._

She stared back. Not because she was worried—she was—but because something still inside her, something so minuscule she nearly convinced herself it was just an illusion, compelled her to as its dying wish. And she humoured it. She stared at the little ones still struggling against forces outside their reach. She stared at them in his merciless coils. She stared. And stared.

Even the feeling of injustice seemed like a distant memory, only its residual heat lingering in the far corners of her mind.

It wasn’t like she didn’t care about her family. She did. She really did. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t lie to herself and say she felt that same burning passion anymore—the colour of red not of love but of loss. She couldn’t lie to herself.

But she could.

And she did.

“Did... Did you tell him?” Her voice was carried by faint whispers like a breeze through the dry willow leaves. Less out of concern but more so phrased out of obligation.

Enji breathed out through his nose, leaning on the opposite side of the couch's backrest—pushing forward slightly under his weight. “Not yet. I’m bringing the boy with me tomorrow. It’ll be a good learning experience for him to see how heroes fight.”

It would. At least it would’ve been if he was willing. Not like it mattered. She wasn’t about to gift a horse in the mouth. This was a chance for her to finally be alone. To not have to look at that child for even a minute longer. To unsee the reflection of her actions staring back at her.

_ A horrible mother. Useless. _

She couldn’t help it. She could no longer register the warmth of motherhood. And oh _God_, did she try. She tried to feel for anything, to grasp anything within the mist. She clawed her hands through the air, trying to grasp the wisps of smoke. Her words felt like bitter ash coating her tongue, each word she said to that child getting stuck in her teeth and bleeding her gums. Hugging him, kissing him goodnight, petting his hair no longer felt comforting. She might as well have been petting an old bail of hay. His once soft hair felt like running her hands through chalk—dry, clinging to the oils on her skin, in between her fingernails, and no matter how many times she washed her hands the sensation would never fade. The weight of her child felt like a cinderblock on her legs, his arms circling her neck like a python constricting her movements, his tears bouncing off her like rain to glass.

It scared her.

What was she losing? What did she already lose? What _hasn’t_ she? What was even left? Her thoughts? Were those even safe enough to be considered hers, _truly_ hers?

What... was hers?

It unnerved her.

Why did she feel so empty when she was with that child?

That child.

When did she start to refer to her _own_ son, her _own_ flesh and blood, as "that" child?

Why did his little whimpers and cries feel like he was leeching all the energy from her?

At this point, was that even her child anymore?

Or was he just a reflection of _ him? _

**No!**

He wasn't him. _Not yet._

No. He was... 

He was…

What was he?

How much of _ her _was actually in him? Half? Maybe less?

Why did it seem like the red on his head devoured the white, strand by strand, with each passing day?

Oh, God. Oh, _ God! _ She didn’t _ want _to feel this way! It wasn’t fair to him—to them. She knew that. She knew she was barely clinging onto the thread of sanity, the abyss below threatening to swallow her whole—each fibre of life slowly withering away. Life? Could this even be classified as living? But what could she do? Nothing.

She couldn’t do anything.

Not for herself, not for them.

_ Useless. _

She was just so tired.

No. That wasn’t completely true. She wasn’t tired as if her limbs weighed her down; she was left empty like a cavern without an end. Groundless, suspended in the empty vacuum of space. No light at the end; if there was ever an end. Her body could still feel the slight give of the couch, hear old reruns of shows she didn't know the names of on television, smell the tea her sister got for her sitting on the coffee table, taste the dull mint flavour from the toothpaste, and see the walls of the living room around her. But she couldn't register any of it. Was she sinking into the couch or was it just from Enji leaning on it? What did those characters say again? The tea must've gotten cold by now. Her mouth was so dry. This large room felt suffocating and yet, at the same time, she couldn’t care less.

Was this classified as living? Was this still considered existing? Why did she feel like a stranger in her own body? Like she was reading a book about some sad, pathetic woman regretting her inaction but each time she skipped to the end, several more frustratingly indecipherable pages were added?

It scared her that she’d gotten intimate with this feeling of emptiness. Welcomed it even. It was better than the alternative. Better than crying to herself at night thinking about the things she could’ve done better—_should’ve _done better. Better than wanting and wishing like she was in some fairy tale awaiting her happily ever after. Better than seeing that child's bruises from training, better than seeing Natsuo begging to spend time with her, better than seeing Fuyumi lose her childhood.

Better than hoping for a dead child to come back to life.

None of them deserved this. They deserved so much better. A family who cared for them and a house that welcomed them. A mother who didn’t feel like a puppet on strings, a mother who could protect them in her embrace, a mother who could love them without seeing the visions of her own faults in them.

She was long past the point where she blamed Enji for everything. She was just as guilty.

_ You already lost one child, what’s one more? _The thought lingered at the forefront of her brain like the red trails her nails would leave on her skin.

_ It’s inevitable. _ _A moronic woman. _

_ No. Stop. Stop that! _

_ Maybe we should’ve joined him. He must be lonely there. _

_ Please stop it. _

She could remember the fluctuating gain and loss of her emotions. The anger and frustration. Hopelessness and fear. The emptiness. It was all a cycle. The only thing she looked vaguely forward to, whether she liked it or not, was what she would feel—or wouldn’t feel—next.

Even so, she wanted to live. Not out of some hope that things would get better—she wasn’t that brave. Because she feared death, she feared looking into the eyes of the child that she failed under the raven's wings. How could she face him? How would he look at her? Probably with scorn and contempt. She didn't blame him. She deserved it. 

_You should have joined him earlier. Then maybe he could've forgiven us._

It's too late.

_We're too late._

Nothing can be fixed.

_Nothing can go back to the way it was. _ _Nothing can go back to the times where we looked forward to the dawn of a brand new day._

Even so, she wanted to live.

_ A failure of a mother. _

_ Shame. _

_ Shame. _

_ Shame._

_Shame. _

_ Shame. _

_ Shame._

_Shame. _

_ Shame. _

_ Shame._

_ Shame—_

**Stop.**

Her mother and sister. They listened. She didn’t want to burden them but they listened. Her mother told her to endure it not knowing the full scope of what was happening to her daughter’s psyche. Or perhaps it was because the web she was caught in became too entangled and merged with her own flesh.

Her sister told her to leave. Countless times. But she couldn’t. She offered to house her, to care for her and her family. But she couldn't. Enji's pride, that child, his life's purpose hinged on her staying here. She couldn't just leave. There were chains around were limbs tying her down. Her misery was the only thing she had left to give and if being like this saved them, she would endure it.

_Looks like you did have something left inside miserable little you._

_But are you saying that to save them or us?_

And yet Rei crawled and selfishly begged them to stay. To hear their voice. To utter words she couldn’t to anyone else; of _her_ sins, _her_ confessions. They were her only lifeline. She couldn’t share this with anyone else. Not her own husband and most definitely not her children. They didn’t deserve to have a woman like her as their mother. To listen to her anguish and look at her with pity and anger.

Perhaps that’s why she refused to see Natsuo. Refused to speak to Fuyumi in fear of seeing the ghost of her eldest. Said nothing back but a simple “I’m okay” or “I’m fine” when she visited.

Visited.

Since when did her own daughter become a _guest_ to her?

She couldn’t bear to see _that_ child as hers.

Didn’t offer prayers to Toya’s shrine. 

Perhaps some part of her wanted to distance herself because she knew that was the best way for her to protect everyone.

_ Stop lying to yourself. _

Her children would be fine on their own. They were so mature for their age. Fuyumi was responsible and intelligent—she could get through fine in the world. Natsuo... had Fuyumi. Shoto would learn how to be independent soon too. They were going to be fine. They were fine all on their own. 

_ You’re just selfish. Weak. A coward. And the truth of the matter is that I’d rather not think about the implications. _

Just, _ please_. Let her have this at least.

She knew she was pitiful. So please. Just this. Spare her. Please.

Please.

Please.

Please.

Please.

Please.

Please.

Please.

Please.

Please.

Please.

Please.

_ Please. _

_ Please. _

_ Please. _

_ Please. _

_ Please. _

_ Please. _

_ Please. _

_ Please. _

_ Please. _

_ Please. _

_ Please. _

_ Please. _

_ Please. _

_ Please. _

_ Please. _

_ Please. _

_Please. _

_ Please. _

_ Please. _

_ Please. _

_ Please. _

_ Please. _

_ Please. _

_ Please. _

_ Please._

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pronouns used in italics are supposed to be confusing on purpose to reflect Rei's state of mind; where you can't tell if it's a third-person who is saying it or herself—perhaps both, an amalgamation of the pieces left.
> 
> I debated whether or not I'd include this in the update but the spar chapter is already getting too long (hence the length).


	14. A Friendly Spar: Observation [Part 1]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You thought I was going to leave you hanging? Nope! Here's a double update!

“Do you— hold on. Chervil, the east entrance. It’s the next turn,” Rosemary pointed out to their driver before turning back to the conversation at hand. “So do you understand? It’s imperative that you are on your best behaviour today.”

Borage groaned, leaning back on his headrest. “It was _ one _ time! And can you blame me? It was Best Jeanist! He was giving autographs out of his own branded denim, his own _ hero costume_!”

She shot him an incredulous stare.

Tsuna chuckled, leaning against the door with a propped arm, distracting himself by familiarizing the cityscape through the tinted window. He knew of the Quirk to Quirkless ratio but it was still a little odd for him to see people with Quirks casually mingling around in broad daylight considering that his line of work preferred the anonymity of the preternatural. It was just odd seeing how such supernatural features and abilities were showcased instead of bound under the Omertà.

“Boss, you nervous?” Borage asked, snapping him out of his daze. 

Seeing his furrowed brows and concerned frown, Tsuna gave him a reassuring look.

“I’m not nervous, just alert.”

“I apologize we couldn’t get another mode of transport, Cielo,” Rosemary said, giving him a knowing look.

“It’s fine, thank you for your consideration. I’m tired more than anything.” _ I just want this whole thing to be over with. _

“You’re a braver man than me, I’d be running to hell and back to avoid Endeavor.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing Cielo’s the hero and not you.” She didn’t even bother to look up from her tablet.

“Oh, 'mary, how you wound me so,” he replied, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. “Anyway, maybe we should’ve moved the match to tomorrow? I’m sure they would’ve understood if we mentioned the emergency call. Last night was brutal.”

“Today or tomorrow, it wouldn’t have mattered,” Tsuna sighed, leaning against his knuckles. _ With my luck, I’m going to get another on-call in a couple hours. _

“Boss, sometimes you’re too nice for your own good."

"I'm sure Basil had to deal with much more than I."

"You're not wrong," Rosemary piped in.

"Okay, but a five-hour chase with a villain gang? How much rest did you actually get?" _Too little._ "Let’s just say it: The Association sucks. Maybe we should turn vigilante.”

Tsuna almost choked.

Rosemary gave him a warning glare. “Please don’t joke around like that, especially in front of heroes.”

“Underground work is tiptoeing on vigilantism anyway,” he pouted.

“I’m not disagreeing with you,” she whispered as if softening the blow, “but it’s distasteful considering that Cielo probably had to deal with them the most.”

“Ah...”

He cringed at Tsuna’s attempt at dissociation, mistaking it as hiding a traumatic memory instead of having an existential crisis over somehow turning every person he’d met into the mafia or its equivalent.

He bit the insides of his cheek, hair yellowing at the edges. “I’m really sorry about that, boss. I didn’t mean to trudge up bad memories.”

Tsuna cleared his throat. “It’s not that, don’t worry. It’s just an… interesting prospect.”

“If it makes you feel better, you’d be an amazing vigilante?”

_ Oh, you sweet summer child, you have no idea. _ “Thank you. I’ve heard that often.”

“We’re here, all,” Chervil announced as the large “E” came into view. He stopped the car, allowing them to get out safely, before backing up. “G’ luck, boss.”

Tsuna nodded in thanks, straightening his tie. “I trust you to handle the office until we get back.”

Chervil nodded, gaving a two-fingered wave and drove off.

  
  


When Tsuna, Rosemary, and a very giddy-but-I'm-trying-to-hide-it-because-we’re-in-a-professional setting Borage entered Endeavor Hero Agency, they were promptly greeted by the hero’s secretary who they’ve been working with for the past few days, Sam Ugwan.

Sam led the three through the agency, giving them a brief overview of the safety measures and schedules in place for the match. Before entering the elevator, they were checked by a UHPPS representative and the security staff to check for any hidden weapons or support gear outside the pre-established contract. Of course, Tsuna had followed the rules, the more...protective version of his clothes safely tucked away in a hidden compartment in his office. Not that it mattered. If Tsuna _ really _wanted to break the rules their security checks weren’t going to find anything.

When they found everything was in order, the UHPPS representative got a call and excused herself, saying that she’ll be up shortly. Sam led them to the elevator and used his keycard to access the restricted floors. While this was nothing new to Tsuna and Rosemary, who had to travel between many government and corporate buildings, Borage jerked his head like a bird, darting his eyes from one new piece of technology and hero to another.

Rosemary scrolled through her tablet displaying a digital version of the contract as well as other information regarding the match.

“I suspect the arena will be the one you showed us yesterday?” she asked.

Sam nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! The training floor we’re going to is often used for media coverage so have no fears on your safety! All spectators will be protected behind a reinforced wall with coating technology.”

She hummed. “How much pressure and heat can it take?”

Rosemary, you angel, asking all the right questions.

“Enough to withstand Endeavor’s own Quirk and as well as strong enough to withhold even one of All Might’s punches!”

Well, that didn’t help him at all. How famous were these heroes that they were considered a unit of measurement?

He turned towards Tsuna. “Although to the spectators, the wall looks nothing more than anti-glare glass, to you it can be a blank wall or a mirror depending on what you’d prefer.”

“Do you shoot there often? I don’t believe I’ve seen much of Endeavor’s Agency on the news.”

“We sometimes rent it out for other heroes, or to showcase our own for training. Think of it as a multipurpose media room. However, large media outlets, by Endeavor’s own request, are barred from entering the building unless they have a legitimate reason.”

She raised a brow. “Surely any location of Endeavor’s, regardless of the heroes showcased would attract attention? Unless… do you not advertise or brand the rooms?”

He gave a tired nod. “Again, by Endeavor’s own request.”

“Huh, how odd...” she mumbled.

Sam turned towards Tsuna trying to give him what he assumed was an encouraging smile. “It certainly is different. But it’s good for underground heroes such as yourself, Cielo! Not to worry, you’ll do great! Endeavor is ranked second on the billboard, don’t be discouraged! Just the fact that he asked you to spar means a great deal! Not many even have the opportunity!”

_ He’s giving me a pep talk as if I’ve already lost._

Pity was certainly an unusual yet almost nostalgic emotion he received from others.

“Thank you,” Tsuna said simply as the elevator dinged and opened.

As the group headed towards the training room, Sam carefully observed Cielo’s reactions and thought back to the small conversation he had with Endeavor a while ago. Throughout the contract, he had constantly reminded Endeavor not to use his Quirk’s full capabilities. He didn’t doubt his boss’s control or skill but Endeavor was weirdly motivated this time. He wasn’t saying that Endeavor was anything less than a fervent man but that resolve was usually reserved for obtaining the number one spot. So when that passion focused on something or someone else?

Well, he was worried. That same burning spirit was going to land them another earful from the Hero Association.

Although Endeavor just opted to ignore his worries, it was when he said that Cielo was “still a young hero” that the man looked at him irritable eyes and simply replied:

_Don’t underestimate him._

He certainly wasn’t doubting the young man! Underground heroes were usually a tough bunch but...

Sam subtly looked back at the young hero in sympathy, noting the slight shadow under his eyes.

_ He’s hiding his nervousness really well— _he thought as they entered the room.

  
  


When the doors opened, the smell of smoked wood chips hit his nose, Endeavor at the centre of the arena in all his glory, the flames around him pulsing, circling around him as if it was a prowling lion sensing its prey.

“Hello, Endeavor,” Tsuna greeted as Rosemary and Borage bowed politely, following Sam to the spectator’s area.

“Cielo.”

He sauntered over, noting how clean everything was. Not that it wasn't previously when he visited but during the contract making process, the room was in maintenance from the previous set of heroes using it. Apparently it was such a regular occurrence that it raised no alarm nor the need for rescheduling. Funnily enough, that was actually the one thing Tsuna was used to.

The room was divided into two areas: the sparring arena and the spectators’ seat behind a glass wall. A digital screen split the elevated benches in front of the large panes facing the city. From what he remembered from last time, the panes were made of privacy glass, able to turn opaque if desired. The lights in the room were embedded into the walls and ceiling for safety and space.

The arena itself was about sixty to forty metres in length with a three-metre breathing room around it. A red border highlighted the edges of the ring, surrounding a yellow one just about a metre away from it. The floor felt sturdy yet he also felt a slight give under his shoes, a material that softened impact but didn’t disrupt footwork. The ceiling was high; probably going so far as to go through two floors. Considering that some people of this universe can easily topple a skyscraper with their height, as an aerial fighter, Tsuna appreciated the accommodation.

Looking around the room, he saw his companions and Sam sitting at the spectator’s seats, though he couldn’t make out what they were talking about.

“I see that your guest hasn’t arrived,” Tsuna observed as he stopped in front of Endeavor. “Will you tell me who your plus one is, or will you give me the same answer as last time?”

“You’ll see him in a few minutes.”

“So the latter.” Tsuna hummed in a coyish tone, closing eyes as if in thought. “I’m sure you wouldn’t bring just anyone without purpose and the number two hero would be too powerful to be blackmailed or bribed so...” He opened one eye, a challenge. “Might they be the reason for this match? May perhaps your son?”

He exhaled through his nose and scoffed. “If you’re so eager to find out, have a few more minutes of _ patience_.”

Now, Endeavor really had no reason to withhold the identity of his guest. And he would’ve told the man about Shoto too if it weren’t for his overly... “friendly” behaviour. He didn’t notice at first—only because he didn’t bother to care—but he had a sneaking suspicion that the younger hero was provoking him on purpose.

And at this point, it was a game. If he told him, he’d lose.

“You don’t seem well, are you okay?”

Borage felt his back burning from the intensity of Rosemary’s don't-say-anything-to-embarrass-the-company-or-else-I-will-cut-your-end-of-the-year-bonus glare. He was already on thin ice for acting a child at their first toy store, he didn’t need her to scold him again. He swore for someone with a herbivorous Quirk, she was scarier than any carnivore.

He quickly shook his head, the edges of his hair gaining a paler tone. “N—Nope! I’m fine, just taking in all the tech, y’know?”

Sam laughed unaware of the silent exchange between the two. “We pride ourselves on having the best training environment so don’t worry. The divider was a special order from a researcher taught at I-Island.”

“I-Island? Like the institution where David Shield, the creator of All Might’s support gear, is working at— I-Island!?”

“Yes!” He beamed with pride. “If you’d like I’ll send a referral to your agency. She’s extremely talented despite being in the field for only a few years!”

“I’m not going to say no to such an amazing contact, thank you. We also have some lesser-known designers and support heroes if you’re ever in need of stealth and encryption. Here, let me get their contact info...”

As the two exchanged details, Rosemary looked over, humming quietly. _ Maybe I should put him in networking. _

Tsuna yawned as he stretched, still a bit tired from the on-call. With a satisfying _ pop _in his back, he took a deep breath, turning around to meet Endeavor’s gaze.

“Is there something wrong?” Tsuna asked, feeling the heat of his stare.

Endeavor stared at him in silence for a moment then asked, “your hero costume. Is that practical?”

Tsuna shot him an incredulous look, just absolutely befuddled that he of all people would ask that. Masking his emotions quickly, Tsuna merely shook his head as if he didn’t just speedrun the five stages of grief at once.

“My mentor always held the belief that one should always present themselves with a certain level of poise and countenance even in battle.” He gave him a once-over. “It’s bad conduct to seem unsightly in front of people with functioning eyes.”

He hummed in thought, not noticing Tsuna's underhanded comment. “Your cape. Would it not get in the way?”

“Rest assured my cape is quite durable and flame-resistant.” Tsuna paused, lifting the sides of his cloak, shooting him a concerned look. “Although, wouldn’t that put you at a disadvantage?”

Endeavor narrowed his eyes. “If you believe my Quirk is what solely got me to where I am today, you’ll be sorely mistaken.”

Tsuna lifted his hands in mock surrender. “I don’t doubt that. But considering that this is just a _ friendly _spar, I’d thought it’d be polite to ask.”

“My flames are hotter than what you’d imagine.”

_ Considering that he’s still human and that his fire’s colour is deep orange, his flames shouldn't go to cremation levels without concentration. But considering that nothing caught on fire and people can't feel the normal amount of heat that high of a consistent flame produces, that temperature limit drops. That or his flames aren't as hot as I think it is. People of this universe are born with corresponding immunities but Fuyumi proved that they aren’t completely immune to their own powers. _

_ Still, that’s insane. The absolute maximum temperature the human skin can take before burning should be only about sixty degrees for no more than five seconds. What the hell is this world made of? _

Tsuna chuckled humorlessly to himself. “I’m not one to underestimate my opponents—”

_ I may get out with some nasty burns today. Hope their health care is really as good as they say. _

“—though I hope you’re the same. After all, like you said: If you believe my Quirk is what solely got me to where I am today, you’ll be _ sorely _mistaken.”

“Endeavor isn’t good with easy-going people like Cielo,” Sam commented as he watched the “friendly” interaction.

“Easy-going?”

Rosemary stared at Tsuna smiling as if he didn’t have a care in the world. As if he didn’t stand in front of one of the strongest heroes in Japan. Relaxed, maybe a little tired, but bantering with a man known to have made villains cry.

"Easy-going"—he says.

She didn’t believe a second if it.

No, that wasn't completely true. She didn’t think Cielo was lying about how he presented himself—open and vulnerable. But that didn’t make up his entire character. He was sarcastic, and even teasing at times. He was confident and friendly. But what others saw as just another friendly neighborhood hero, she saw a beast lurking in a dense forest. She saw it in Basil as well. Behind the jokes and banter, those brief moments where a darker, more serious face peeked through the sliver of leaves. But unlike some of the other two-faced heroes she’s seen, the two weren't _ dishonest_. The side they concealed weren’t behind bars or a screen; they were hidden not because they needed or wanted to but because they _ could_. Because, to them, there was no _ need _to use that side.

To be honest, that might’ve been scarier.

Despite all that, she never felt like she had to watch her steps. A side effect of her Quirk was having a herbivore's instinct, a double-edged sword in the world of business. When she was younger, her mind would constantly run in circles, anxious about potential dangers with red sirens blaring through her nerves. But on the upside, she knew when someone had ill intentions far before they had a chance to act. She could feel it in her gut and there was no one in this world who she trusted more than her instincts.

So although she wouldn’t exactly label Cielo as an “easy-going” person, she nevertheless trusted him enough to sleep with both eyes closed. After all, she of all people knew how important keeping up one’s appearance was.

“_Hm..._ He isn’t completely without worry,” she replied neutrally.

Sam gave her a confused glance but dropped the topic after she didn’t elaborate any further. Instead, he steered the topic more towards business and how each agency ran. Just then, his phone rang as he excused himself from the conversation.

“Yes? Yes. Please put her through. Hello Ms. Todoroki! We’re just setting up. Oh, you’re here already? Okay, come to training room seven. I already gave clearance for you both.”

As he hung up the phone, he walked towards Endeavor who looked like he was on the verge of picking up Tsuna and pitching him across the city like a baseball.

“Sir, your children are here.”

Tsuna, for the first time he’s seen the man, saw Endeavor genuinely smile. A smile that held great, and he meant _ great_, pride and excitement that stretched his lips from ear to ear. It wasn’t gentle, however. It was still infected by a tinge of obsession.

“Good.” He turned towards Tsuna. “Cielo, my son will be spectating. Make sure you show him what it means to be a hero.”

“Oh? And here I thought you made this test as a filter.”

“Experience is experience. If you happen to disappoint, he’ll know what _ not _to do.”

“I’m sure he’s already seen that before.”

Before Endeavor could fully register those words, the doors slid open revealing Fuyumi and, assumedly, the youngest Todoroki.

_ He’s much younger than I thought._

The boy hid behind his sister, clutching her hand like a lifeline, his eyes darting from the room to its people like a pinball. His other hand squeezed the hems of his shirt, his steps small and quiet as if he wanted to be drowned out by his sister’s presence. Though that was impossible with his bi-coloured hair and the fact he was Endeavor’s prized son (which was the actual reason why other people stared).

Fuyumi, spotting Tsuna, looked at him worriedly before walking towards her father. After they exchanged short greetings (if any on Endeavor’s side), they began to whisper something that Tsuna couldn’t quite make out. 

_ She’s so formal talking to him... _

Meanwhile, the boy, still trying to melt into his sister’s shadow, peeked over his shoulder, looking at him. Tsuna waved, showing him the gentlest, most disarming smile. Shoto stepped even closer to Fuyumi, clinging to her leg like a baby koala. His large bichromatic eyes seemed to assess him as if they were judging his sins. He frowned before turning his head away from him. 

Disappointment lowered Tsuna’s arm, the weight sinking his heart into the ground. He knew it wasn’t personal but being rejected by kids hit harder than any punches.

“Hello, Cielo,” Fuyumi waved, approaching him her little brother in tow. “Don’t be rude Shoto, say hello.”

He blinked, briefly staring up at him with wary eyes. “Hello...” he mumbled into his shirt.

She gave Tsuna an apologetic smile, holding onto Shoto’s hand. “He’s shy around strangers.”

“No worries. Are you going to watch the match?” _ I thought it was only a plus one? _

“Yes! I mean, no. I had some plans with some friends and the agency was on the way. But what I meant was”—she leaned closer to him—"what are you thinking? You can get seriously injured! I know father has a reputation but he can’t force you to fight!”

Tsuna rose a brow. “I accepted willingly and rest assured, I don’t pick fights for the heck of it.”

“Father is _really_ strong. He’s not the number two hero—”

“—for his personality, I know.” He chuckled. How many times would he hear that? “Do I seem that unreliable?”

“I didn’t mean—! I’m not insinuating that you’re weak or anything! But...” She gave a quick glance behind her, her father talking with the UHPPS representative who came in the room moments prior. “He’s strong. I mean, I’ve never seen you fight but...”

“Relax, I’m only teasing. Please don’t worry. I can assure you that you’re worrying about the wrong person.”

She sighed, looking at Shoto’s cheeks squished against her leg. “If I’d known you’d _ fight _ him instead of _ talking _to him...”

Yes, he was aware that he didn’t exactly make the most rational decision.

“And I promised auntie I’d look after you too,” she mumbled.

_ D—Do I look that weak in their eyes? And how pathetic would I be if I cowered behind a civilian?_

“You’re welcomed to stay and watch if you’d like. I’m sure just one more guest won’t change much— Ah. Wait, you had plans, right?”

She nodded. “I really want to stay but I have to go.”

Shoto gasped, shaking his head, eyes were blown wide, lips quivering in fear. When she pried her hand away, he immediately, with as much strength a child could muster, trapped her hand in a vice, tugging her closer to him.

“Shoto!” she whispered harshly.

Feeling the heat of everyone’s gaze drawn towards them, Fuyumi quickly muttered apologies before dropping off Shoto in the spectator’s section. Tsuna saw the boy protest by clinging onto her hand. He could see her sigh, talking to him for a while before he reluctantly let her go, pulling at the hem of his shirt with his knees stiffly drawn together.

“I’m sorry, he usually doesn’t throw tantrums like that,” Fuyumi said as she prepared to leave.

_ Tantrum? That was a tantrum? _

Tsuna wasn’t even sure where to begin with that one. If _ that _was considered a tantrum he wouldn’t even begin to know what to call Lambo’s outbursts when he was a child.

“He’s uneasy, it’s natural. Hopefully, he’ll get used to us.”

Fuyumi hummed nervously, a hand over her collar, eyes drifting back to Shoto with his head down and clutching his bag. “I hope so too.”

She bowed and wished him luck before leaving.

The UHPPS representative turned on her mic, her voice echoing through the built-in speakers on the other side of the barrier. She took out a tablet, looking at both men.

“For clarification, I’ll outline the sparring session as follows. One, the use of Quirks and support equipment is allowed.”

Endeavor stretched one last time, knowing that he couldn’t afford any mistakes. The man in front of him wasn’t some amateur, he could give him that.

_ Hmph. What a waste of a Quirk to work in the underground. _

“Two, although bodily harm is inevitable, crippling, critical, or otherwise life-threatening blows will not be permitted. The entire match will end if these conditions are met by either party.”

Tsuna slowly breathed in and out, tapping into a familiar sensation, blocking out unneeded noise, going into a state of calm and focus.

“Three, there will be three rounds, each spanning three minutes. The round will end when either one of the party forfeits, is unconscious, steps out of the set parameters, or as previously mentioned, critically injured. The judge will be keeping time and score. Best two out of three wins.”

Endeavor aligned his feet with his shoulders, his knees facing forward, ready to move at a moment’s notice. Cielo seemed like the speedy type.

“Four, unless there is a verdict or a violation of these aforementioned safety rules, spectators cannot interrupt or otherwise aid in the fight. In doing so, they not only endanger themselves but also the heroes.”

Tsuna pushed his cape out of the way. He wanted to get this over with as fast as possible and in this first move, every millisecond counted.

“Are the two of you ready?”

The two men nodded, not taking their eyes off each other for a moment. 

The large LED board flashed, the countdown showing up in a bold red font. “3:00” blinked at a fixed interval on the screen, waiting until her signal.

“Very well. Begin!”

3:00

2:30

2:00

1:30

“Um… The time has started—”

“We know,” they both replied.

Tsuna observed Endeavor carefully, and he, him. Having mostly fought opponents who were impulsive or overconfident, Tsuna had expected the man to make the first move. But it wasn’t that surprising he supposed. Endeavor, despite his explosive Quirk, wasn’t an impulsive idiot.

For now.

There was a part of him that wished he could pick and prod at the man’s psyche to make him impulsive and rash. Break him mentally so he barely had to lift a finger. An age-old fighting technique. Largely favoured by his Mists and some of his other Skies. But he quickly shooed those thoughts away, along with other ideas of the same calibre. This wasn't the underground and he preferred not to go to jail... again.

Still, Endeavor was a limelight hero, an entertainer. Even if he hated the press. 

_ He’s bound to go first. _

1:00

It was odd. As a limelight hero who could care less for the media, Enji had rarely seen heroes who... _ waited. _The world of heroics was like battling camera shutters shooting off at every second, blinding and quick. It attracted attention, favoured who moved first and listened to the loudest. Many people would consider Endeavor a purely combat-focused hero seeking to rack up arrest numbers rather than followers. But even by his standards, Cielo was… quiet. Observing. Like an alley cat awaiting its prey with unsheathed claws.

He supposed it was to be expected of an underground hero. No time for theatrics.

And though he respected that, well, it wasn’t _ his _style to just wait around.

And there was more than one way to flush out a wild animal besides waiting.

0:30

Tsuna narrowed his eyes as Endeavor let out a huff, changing his stance by sliding his left foot slightly backwards, his torso following along. He lifted his arm and pulled it backwards, so his chest puffed out. Tsuna had to narrow his eyes to see the flickering of fire licking his open palms, gathering in his hand.

Alarms blared in his head.

_ Wait… Isn’t that—! _

Wild torrent of fire barreled towards him like a missile. Faster than his heartbeat would allow, the heat crept up his skin, hearing its roar rumbling through his body.

** _BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!_ **

He just barely had enough time to propel away as his leg failed to escape the blast, the fire engulfing his right side into its maw before he jetted away. His speed blew away the lingering flames gripping his pants, the last remnants flickering in the air leaving a trail of ash.

He bit back a swear, wincing at the remaining heat gnawing at his skin.

Hot, but not burnt.

The muscles in his legs tensed, the only saving grace from his mistake being the heat resistant fabric that burned to a crisp and what remained on his leg revealing a flushed calf.

0:25

_ Shit, I forgot he was also a long-range fighter. _Damn handicaps.

He exhaled through his nose, expelling the smell of ash and charred fabric, his own breath cooler than the air around him. His hands jittered a bit from the sudden explosion of concentrated Sky Flames, his cloak billowing behind him as he observed Endeavor’s movements. Even from up high, his large imposing figure didn't seem to lessen. The man glared up at him, a ball of fire already in his hands.

_ Fast! _

Tsuna quickly dodged the first fireball. The second almost grazing his shoulder.

_ He predicted where I was going to dodge— _he thought with narrowed eyes.

0:21

Endeavor clicked his tongue, fire spiralling around his hands like a whirlpool. He barely gave him a second to breathe as he launched another wave of fireballs hurtling towards him.

Tsuna quickly weaved through the spray of rapid-fire spitting up at him like a gatling gun, leaving behind a sporadic trail of orange Flames. As he dodged the next wave, the walls swept by his peripherals, noting how they weren’t charred or dented.

0:15

The onslaught of fire didn’t cease, Tsuna suddenly finding himself thanking Reborn and Kyoya for his aerial training as Endeavor shot the fireballs in an arc, making it twice as difficult to navigate through the dense air exploding in a cacophony of orange and red, energy rippling through each blast with a smokey ring.

He could feel and taste the weight of the air like cotton stuffed in his mouth. He could feel the grey fumes sticking to his sweat as it filled his eyes and lungs, the sound of hissing fire still stuck in his eardrums.

But all for the greater good.

Tsuna didn’t stay airborne just to decrease the chances of facing Endeavor’s punches. But with the amount of fire he threw up, the smoke built up enough to give him some cover. If he aimed it just right, he could probably even shoot an X-burner safely—

A piercing blue sat amongst the red and orange filling his vision as Tsuna widened his eyes in surprise.

0:09

Tsuna tried to flee, but in the thin window of his shocked state, Endeavor’s fist came crashing down on him faster.

0:09

Endeavor’s fist lodged itself into his stomach.

0:09

**CRASH!!!**

0:09

By the time he coughed up blood, his back had already hit the red line on the floor.

0:09

By the time he registered the pain, the match was over.

0:08

His only saving grace was his hard Flames instinctively firing out, balancing out the force of being catapulted into the ground. If not, his spine would’ve been _ obliterated. _

As the timer stopped and yells were heard, Tsuna was only left with one bittersweet thought:

_ He held back. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure some of you bet that Tsuna was going to destroy Endeavor in the first match. But remember, Endeavor is a good fighter (this is especially true with that season 3 High-End Nomu fight DAMN). And you'll see why Tsuna took that first L because he isn't one to do something for no reason
> 
> Thank you for the wonderful comments and kudos! Your bookmark tags and comments are hilarious and never fail to leave a smile on my face. We reached +1900 kudos! Oh my God??? I'm honestly so blown away by your support. I lowkey feel a little bad for the people who wanted see the Toya oneshot since this was planned to be 40k max fic but the words just keep on coming!


	15. A Friendly Spar: Application [Part 2]

As the dust settled, Tsuna heard loud footsteps rushing towards him accompanied by yells. 

_ I’m not sure if I should be relieved that he held his punch or pissed off that he did. _

He groaned, wincing at the dull, throbbing ache in his neck and coccyx, followed by a sharp pain in his sides. It was just sore, nothing that couldn’t be fixed with his Sun Flames hidden below his cloak. If it had been anyone else than him, falling from that great a height and velocity would definitely have broken _ something_. If not, faint from being drilled into the ground.

Then he coughed up blood.

Nevermind then.

He quickly ducked his head behind his other arm, pretending that he was just wiping some sweat off. Looks like being shot through the chest by a punch that could send an adult flying across the block wasn’t in his list of immunities.

_ I can’t believe that the punch did more damage than the fall impact. _

Honestly, he was surprised he didn’t have a ruptured stomach. A man, almost twice as big, hitting a glass cannon fighter like him wasn’t exactly ideal. His throat felt fine if not a little hoarse so that blood probably came from a punctured _something. _At least the bone wasn’t wedged too far in. Oh, don’t get him wrong. It was painful as all hell. It felt like a sharpened metal straw was stabbing his sides every time he breathed. And if he was about ten percent less aware of his surroundings, he probably would’ve frozen Endeavor in a glacier by now.

But he was better than that. Reborn taught him to never show such weaknesses to your opponents lest they target your vulnerabilities. And by now his pain tolerance was through the roof.

He groaned as the white-hot sear of Sun Flames mended the broken rib, sewing the fleshy walls of his organs together. He was definitely going to see a doctor just in case though, his Sun Flames weren’t nearly as fast or strong to sanitize and burn anything that might’ve spilled out from his stomach inside his body. Honestly, the only reason why he could even vaguely diagnose himself was because of how many times his bones broke. 

_ Praying to God that I don’t have a rupture. _

Sometimes he wished he had whatever body or mind Kyoya had for himself to somehow _ command _his own body to heal faster or to just stop hurting. No, Tsuna was but a humble mortal compared to that bloodthirsty behemoth. He had to heal like any other person with magical fire commanding the forces of nature.

Tsuna shifted his stance, his hand still over the wound as he saw Borage running towards him with the on-site medical staff, frantic, his hair in a frazzled grey.

“Are you okay!? Oh my God, don’t get up.”

He pushed his hair back, cold dread crawling down his spine, checking if Tsuna was still conscious and aware. The latter wrapped his cloak around himself to hide the Flame’s light. The former clicked his tongue, shooting a glare at Endeavor.

“Did you seriously have to go all out!?”

Sam joined him. “I must agree! Endeavor, I have told you countless times that—”

Endeavor rolled his eyes. “I didn’t.”

“He really didn’t,” Tsuna added as he stood up, his mantle still covering him as if he was an eighteenth-century vampire. “It was my own fault that I failed to land inside the border.”

“What!? I’m not talking about the match! You were—! Just what kind of bullshit high standards do you have for yourself!? And you didn’t 'land’ you were catapulted!”

“I’ve experienced worse.” Tsuna winced, his rib finally setting into place. “I’m fine Borage—”

“You’re _ alive_.”

“And in my book, that’s either a punishment or an acceptable result.” He opened his cloak, finally allowing the medical staff to touch him. “And I’m more inclined on the latter.”

He groaned as his hair turned white-sliver with a brush of red.

Tsuna’s breath hitched as the residual pain jerked his side. Too bad his Flames couldn’t produce anesthetics.

“I agreed to these rules and if I went against any of them then that’s my fault for not landing inside the perimeter.”

He had time limits in his spars before but the perimeter rule was something he didn’t have much experience in. Most of his battles encouraged using whatever space he was given—sometimes even more if the fight escalated—_Kyoya—_to a dangerous level.

“How would you even change trajectory mid-fall!?”

_ By defying logic and all known physics. Or being Reborn. —_he thought humourlessly.

“No need to get worked up, Borage. I appreciate it, but my pride doesn’t hinge on a single loss.”

“You got hurt!”

_ Yep. _“Mild muscle pain at worst.”

“But!”

“I said I’m fine, Haya— _ahem, _excuse me, Borage.”

With those silver locks, he reminded him of Hayato in their early days when he fretted over every injury and confrontation he had.

“Moreover...” Tsuna shifted his attention to Endeavor, silently thanking Rosemary for reeling Borage in. “I’ve got to say, I didn’t really expect you to _ fly. _”

“I merely jumped better than you could hover.” Unsurprising answer.

The medical staff finished, explaining that they couldn’t find any serious internal or external wounds; just increased body temperature, a few scratches and small bruises, and the typical injuries they would regularly see in a fight. But no burns. Endeavor’s ears perked with an odd glint in his eyes. At most, they explained, Tsuna had high levels of stress hormones, endorphins, and melatonin—

_ Sounds about right. _

—among other chemical imbalances yet nothing that indicated immediate life-threatening consequences. They explained that it was commonplace in heroes, especially in underground heroes, to have exhaustion and fatigue. But that being said…

“We recommend stopping or suspending this fight,” the doctor commented, “although most heroes deal with stress and fatigue... Cielo, are you experiencing problems with slower reflexes and awareness?”

_ YES. _“Somewhat.”

“Have you felt more irritable lately? Feeling a bit… emotionally involved after this round?”

Do you mean salty? Then Tsuna would be worth his weight in gold.

“...I try not to inconvenience others.”

He sighed. “You’re burning out. This level of stress and brain activity is something we’d see in heroes who just finished a large-scale raid. You need to rest. Frankly, I don't even know how you're so conscious right now.”

“I’ve been through worse, no need to worry.”

He frowned. “Your standard shouldn’t be at your worst.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

He stepped back giving him an eye that said, _ please take care of yourself. _Tsuna wondered how much the doctor had to say that—only for heroes to disregard his advice—for him to age ten years just from that statement.

“For how long do we need to suspend this match?” Endeavor asked the representative.

“How long!? Cielo was in a six-hour raid with barely any sleep before we came here!” Borage argued, pushing back angry curls. “We should’ve suspended the fight before it began.”

In contrast to the seriousness shown on his companions’ faces, Tsuna could only marvel at the usefulness of a Quirk that could instantly analyze the human body’s systems. The external and internal comment implied that they could scan for nearly all of the major organ systems, not just visible or tangible wounds. Could they analyze their targets’ previous injuries? Judging from their lack of “oh shit, how the fuck did you rearrange your fucking spine together?” probably not. Or maybe they were already used to such injuries on a hero.

On a side note, how the hell was this person _ not _a hero? He couldn't even imagine the possibilities if that Quirk was obtained by a skilled Sun Flame user!

Tsuna turned his head as he heard the sound of shy footsteps approaching slowly. It seemed like no one else had noticed amongst their arguments. He tried to make himself look small and as welcoming as possible, considering a group of arguing adults would be a scary sight for any child.

“Did we scare you?” he spoke gently with a reassuring smile. “I’m sorry about that.”

Shoto flinched, staring at him with widened eyes before his body slowly crumbled under the turning eyes of so many adults.

Then he ran away.

The broken rib hurt less.

“Cielo, can you continue?” the UHPPS representative asked.

He nodded despite Sam’s and Borage’s protests.

“He literally got thrown into the floor!” he argued. “Not only that, didn’t you hear the doctor!?”

Rosemary gave him a look. “Borage—”

The representative sighed, looking at him like a child crying over spilt milk. “Do you honestly think so little of underground heroes? Do you not think he knew the risks involved? Do you think this is the first-ever case of stress in a hero? In Cielo? He is confirmed not to be injured and wishes to continue. Do you still raise any objections?”

He bit back a retort as Rosemary placed a hand on his back in a show of support. He was young and too visibly emotionally-attached. He might’ve been aware of the dirty politics involving heroes and seeing them fight on the streets but seeing someone he knew? Someone who he’s seen as nearly untouchable in the battlefield shot into the ground? Up close? He couldn’t bear to see any more of that.

Tsuna meanwhile stared at the floor, ceiling, and walls again. Not a dent or a crack. When he slid his hands over the surfaces previously, it wasn’t hot either—a little warm at most like a stovetop that’s been cooling off for minutes—despite having literal balls of fire thrown at it just moments prior.

_ Looks like I made two miscalculations... _

First, the information he collected about the room he saw during the contract making process was null and useless. If a human body crashing into the ground at high velocity didn’t even make a dent, then the in-repair room he saw before was not only fixed, but _ heavily _improved on. In hindsight, maybe being thrown like a ragdoll wasn’t the best way to test that theory but besides some temporary minor muscle aches, such a thing wouldn’t have injured him (sans the Endeavor factor). He’d literally had his spine shattered once and faced the mafia equivalent of death, this was nothing.

To be honest, he didn’t know if he should feel cheated that during one of the few times he scouted the place himself, it ended up being useless, or to be honoured that they made such improvements just for this match.

_ Either this place is made by some indestructible Quirk or... _

Second, Endeavor didn’t need scaffolding to gain height, and his flames were strong enough to remedy that. In fact, after that, many of his prior experiences couldn’t have prepared him for Endeavor or anyone else as strong in this universe for that matter.

Conclusion? He placed too much faith in his research without the proper context. In fact—

Endeavor snapped him out of his analysis with a low growl.

“Why didn’t you use your ice Quirk?” Endeavor, less asked than, questioned commandingly.

Tsuna shrugged nonchalantly if only to irritate the man further. “I saw no need to.”

“Uh… Boss, you lost—” Borage was cut off by Rosemary’s _ shush_.

Endeavor narrowed his eyes. “Use it _ combatively _ next round and _ don’t _hold back.”

_ I’ve never heard someone with so much life left asking to die. _

“I used as much power as needed.”

A dilemma: to use his ice or not? Considering how hot Endeavor’s fire was, being unable to melt ice would bring too much unnecessary, contrived, and_ dangerous _ attention to him. And he’d already dealt with that before in another dimension, he didn’t need another incident like that one here. Well, so did this entire match for that matter but he wasn’t about to break into their house to fulfill Natsuo’s wish when there were other options. Besides, how creepy would it be for a child to be handed a “secret” letter by an unfamiliar adult who broke into their home and claimed they knew their brother who was also a child living in the same house? Yeah, _ no. _

If only the Hero Association wasn’t watching, what a shame. He understood their significance, but drawing more attention to himself was something he wanted to avoid at all costs. He was already on their radar since his powers didn’t match up with Basil’s description of him. Not to mention the chase. He was relatively safe for now, but if it went on, the contradictions would pile up. And he wasn’t about to give any more reasons as to why his agency was so overworked.

_ “But...” _ He smiled politely. _ Too _politely. “Who am I to defy the wishes of our most accommodating host?”

Rosemary’s breath hitched, legs locking into place in a horrifying realization. Before Borage could agitate the situation any further, as soon as she could move again, she silently grabbed a fistful of his sleeve, dragging him away from the arena back to their seats.

Despite shooting her an offended look, he sat down. “‘mary! Don’t you feel a _ little _irritated that our Boss lost the first round cause of some stupid—!?”

“That madman... just like Basil,” she muttered through her fingers. Her ears flicked, biting her lips, a drop of sweat rolling down her neck.

“Uh… What?”

“And here I was worried over...” she grumbled, massaging her temples, one leg bouncing.

_“Hey,_ Earth to Rosemary. What am I missing here?”

“Just… watch.”

Was this the man who was going to replace his mom?

That was the first thought Shoto had when he saw the hero standing across his father. It didn’t hold much judgement—more so cautious curiosity and fear. He didn’t hate the man when he first saw him but _ he was going to replace his mom. _ His older sister also told him that the hero was strong. Father liked strong people.

Mom wasn’t strong. She was always quiet and sleeping. Fuyumi told him it was because she got easily tired—that she was sick.

This hero was strong.

He was going to replace his mom.

He didn’t want that. He liked his mom. He didn’t like this man. He didn’t like his father for doing this. He didn’t want more training. Training hurts. It makes mom sad and more sick.

It didn’t help that the man also had a fire Quirk. He didn’t like that. He thought he had an ice Quirk like his mom. That was why father told him to come watch, right? But he also had a fire one. Someone with two Quirks just like him.

Fuyumi told him that this man was nice and that he had nice Quirks like his—similar to his. But he couldn’t see how fire could be nice. Fire hurt when touched and it was painful when he practised with it. Fire was his father’s. None of his other family members had fire Quirks. Maybe his eldest brother had it? He couldn’t remember and he never asked. Fire melted, separated.

How can fire be _ nice_?

Father wasn’t nice. Shoto might’ve been young but he still knew what nice people were—Fuyumi came to mind. Shoto wasn’t nice. If he was nice, mom wouldn’t be so sad. If he was like All Might, mom would be happy.

But he wasn’t. He was his father’s. So this man also wasn’t nice.

At least that's what he thought.

When he saw his father beat him, Shoto couldn’t help but flinch and become worried. He’s never seen his father so aggressive even in his training and training hurts. He felt a pang of empathy for the man. For a brief moment he also wondered, _ was he like me? _

But Shoto still wouldn’t let down his guard. He didn’t trust the man. He didn’t want his mom to be replaced!

But then he spoke to him.

After the bell had rung followed by a flurry of yells by the adults around him. Shoto watched as the adults scrambled to check if the man was okay. Shoto looked up at his father to see his annoyed and disappointed expression—the one he was already well-acquainted with.

_ Was he like me? _

He turned his eyes towards the fallen man, now obscured by the bodies of the medical staff. Despite his anxieties, Shoto still worried for the man and slowly inched towards him, using the chaos of worried and angry voices to cover him. He didn’t expect to be noticed, he was very good at sneaking around. Mom was sensitive to noise so he practiced moving quietly until his steps blended in with the natural _hums_ and _creaks_ of house.

But he noticed. The man noticed. Shoto flinched.

It was the first time Shoto had actually met his eyes without the cover of his sister or the solace of burying himself in his shirt. There was something about him. It was a feeling in his gut and a whisper in his ears—that sounded like Fuyumi—that said the man was good and kind. Despite losing, his face was void of angry lines and the oppressing heat he'd expected to feel. He looked at him the way some of the nice market ladies he’d met gave him—the way mom looked at him before she got sick—sicker.

Shoto was feeling weird.

So he ran.

  
  


The representative sighed as she saw the two leave. “Apologies for being so curt with your employee, Cielo. But we have no—”

Her words were cut off by her phone vibrating in her pocket.

“Excuse me. Please give me five minutes.”

Both of them nodded as Sam reprimanded an annoyed Endeavor with an amused Tsuna watching.

She walked some distance away and took out her earphones, answering the call.

“Yes? Did you apprehend them?” she spoke quietly but sternly into the mic.

“Most of them,” the other side answered. “We counted fourteen but scout says she saw fifteen. We’ve already alerted Endeavor’s side. His sidekicks and an intern of theirs are helping us in the search.”

“Damn tabloids. Do you know their Quirk?”

She could hear a sigh. "Yea. We saw it. It's invisibility."

“Of all the—!” She groaned, trying to remain composed. “Which publication?”

“The Hero Exposure.”

“Of course, it just _ had _to be that rat company!”

“You’d think after the first three lawsuits they’d stop. We’re lucky the information they sold didn’t spread far.”

“How’d they even get Endeavor’s, let alone Cielo’s, information?”

“I don’t know. But I’d recommend stopping the match soon. They didn’t strike me as the speedy-type. From here, it’ll probably take about eight, no, maybe ten minutes? Sooner if they know the streets. They’re going on foot but we’re screening every car within a block radius just in case.”

She sighed one final time, running through all the legal nonsense she’d have to deal with for this. “Alright, thanks. Keep me informed.”

_ Click. _

She headed towards the two heroes stretching in the arena. “Cielo, Endeavor. A word.” The two looked at her curiously. “I’ve just been informed that there may be a privacy breach soon. We are either going to stop the match now or have this round be the final one. I recommend the former as Endeavor won the first round any—”

“The latter option,” the two said in sync.

Her brows shot up, not expecting either of the men to continue. Damn it.

“Very well. We’ll start quickly.”

  
  


Now with everyone safely back in their places, the representative looked at both men, one finger hovering over the countdown button.

“Are you two ready?”

“Yes,” Tsuna said as Endeavor nodded.

“Alright. Round two begins… now!”

3:00

Tsuna sauntered around Endeavor like a glowering lioness, eyes a simmering orange. His steps were light yet it commanded strength and weight into movement.

He had seen many fights, been _ in _ many fights. But the footage didn’t do Endeavor justice. The speed of his fire was so much faster—hotter. And in that, he had unfortunately been incorrect in his predictions. The base human biology and attributes of this universe were different than his. His universe evolved to accommodate Flames due to the Tri-ni-sette as its _ origin_. Not to mention that the change happened over countless millennia. Even so, not much of the base human body changed.

If someone from _his_ world was flung against a building, they would shatter their bones. Perhaps even lose their lives.

For this world to accommodate for Quirks, and a _ rapid _ expansion of it over only a few _ centuries _no less, their bodies evolved to be much stronger and more durable. Twenty percent of the populace was considered Quirkless. A large majority of that was from the previous generations—more specifically the elderly. In exchange for technological expansion, human biology evolved. It explained how the hospitals here weren’t constantly overrun with injured heroes, villains, and civilians.

If someone from _this_ world was flung against a building, they would break their bones. Maybe even less.

It was a miscalculation on his part. To think he averaged Endeavor’s fire by his universe’s standards. A foolish mistake in which Reborn would kill him himself if he ever found out. Endeavor’s body was not only built to be more resistant than his, but his Quirk granted him even higher immunity against the heat. What that limit was, he didn't have a clue. Not only that, but his fire also propelled him without the use of gas as far as he knew. Newton's Third Law be damned. At least in Tsuna’s case, Flames were inherently a force outside of human understanding.

Then it was no wonder Endeavor took things head-on instead of dodging.

The topic was always at the back of his mind but came full force during the on-call last night that ran to this morning. Besides having what Tsuna considered at the moment to be the most annoying Quirk in existence (running away semi-effectively), during the chase one question arose about four hours in when he got tired of playing by his self-imposed the rules and used his Flames to propel his foot directly into the villain's spine.

Was that excessive? Yes. Did he _ really _ need to do that? No. But he was tired and to put it plainly, _ pissed_. Tsuna was by no means a pacifist (or a blood-thirsty maniac) but he’d let many things slide. One part was because of how he was raised outside the mafia's influence in his childhood and the other part was out of convenience. Years of dealing with people trained his eyes to see the path of least resistance. 

There were only a handful of things that made the young don merciless, however. The most obvious example being any malicious intent thrown at his family or friends. The other was _disturbing his precious sleep._

So when an elusive gang of thieves who were somehow fairly efficient in escaping, not to mention _ loud, _ herded the heroes in a wild goose chase for over six fucking hours after days of busy preparation for this match, yes, he lost a _ bit _of self-control.

It was when his foot made contact with the man’s back that Tsuna snapped out of his irritated haze, realizing that kicking a man through the spine into a concrete building would kill him. And good heroes did not kill people.

_ Very insightful, me. _

As the loud _ crash! _reverberated through the alleyway, a few things rapidly ran through his head. Most of which were:

_ Shit, sorry. _

_ Excessive. _

_ Was anyone watching? _

_ Where can I hide a body here? _

_ Should I tell the police the thief got away? _

_ How should I decorate this scene? _

And— Oh wait. _ Was he still breathing? _

He’d been slacking in his training but he knew damn well that his kick could and should’ve shattered his spine and killed him. But no. He saw the man’s diaphragm move, albeit a _ very _miniscule amount.

On a side note, it seemed that the police were completely okay with him nearly killing a man as they saw it as a necessary evil and punishment for those who went into crime. They were also apparently used to underground heroes using more brutal methods in a capture. Seriously, what was the difference between underground heroism and vigilantism? Ethics in this universe were fucked up for sure. But what did he expect from a world which balanced themselves on the shoulders of just _ one _man and an artificial binary between heroism and villainy?

It was during this time that the poor security measures and the lack of safety awareness, in which this universe’s people had, made sense. People flocked to open and dangerous battles like spectators to a sports game because, although they were still _ human, _ their immunities and resistances were biologically sturdier than the people of his universe. It was the reason why there was what was essentially a child fighting ring replacing a high school sports festival. It was the reason why there were some heroes that made it past age thirty despite what was supposed to be crippling injuries.

Still, that was all theoretical. But that punch—that fire—proved his theory correct.

Ah, but Tsuna didn’t worry so much as feeling a sense of satisfaction.

He really didn’t have much to lose. If he won, he won. He lost, he lost. He wasn’t like his guardians or many of his close friends where he prided himself on winning frivolous battles. Not to seem overconfident but regardless of the verdict, Tsuna was sure that Endeavor wasn’t a man to dismiss someone just because they lost in a _ regulated _match.

For Tsuna, ever the hypocrite, was more interested in satisfying his curiosities about this world for future, more pressing events. For example, what if that on-call wasn’t just solely about grand larceny but a sociopathic megalomaniac with some overpowered Quirk? If he had used that amount of force towards someone like that, he, or even worse, others might’ve been hurt because of _ his _ignorance.

Information was valuable, worth more than gold, deadlier than a bullet. As long as he didn’t humiliate himself or his family, small sacrifices to gain information were worth it—it was one of the first things Reborn taught him after he became don Vongola.

Though he was still sure his hypocritic advisor would punish him for “losing” regardless.

He wasn’t smug, just satisfied. Because he could see it: the slight crease in his opponent’s brows and a sneer indicating annoyance and disappointment. Someone who overestimated him feeling cheated. A lowered guard. A window of opportunity; a written will packaged ever so nicely in an envelope and a stamp. For him, of course. For Endeavor, it was a grave miscalculation.

If this was _ his _world, that underestimation would lead to nothing but the promise of a shallow grave and their face on the cover of tomorrow’s obituary.

Okay, so _ maybe _ he was a _ little _salty. Damn that doctor was really on the mark, wasn’t he?

In his defence, you don’t stop being salty when you had battle maniacs like Xanxus and Kyoya hound you for a rematch for a battle that happened over a _ decade _ago. Also, more often than not, spite was a better motivator. Even more than fear.

And now he had some _resolve._

Regardless, what he told Borage wasn’t a lie. It was his fault for not keeping track of the parameters and being rash in his planning. Granted, he was also thinking of hundreds of other things but a don couldn’t afford to make any excuses. He was by no means arrogant but being a Vongola meant that you had some degree of impulsivity.

Well, he’ll at least give the man _ some _credit. He wasn’t completely underestimating him, just disappointed.

2:50

“I truly hope you don’t see the people at my agency as any lesser due to my performance, Endeavor,” Tsuna said, striking up a friendly conversation in the middle of battle.

Endeavor gave him a look as if to say, _ why are you talking in the middle of battle? _Just when Tsuna thought he wouldn’t respond—

“If there is any evidence of failure then the fault lies in poor management of the one in charge,” he scoffed.

_ Eh._

_ Eh? _

_ Ehh???_

He... He really didn’t expect that. A dismissive grunt maybe, but not an actual answer.

Endeavor scowled, irritated at Tsuna’s blatant surprise. “Do you think I’m so pathetic as to drag in the uninvolved?”

If he was honest? Kind of? Heroism was a business after all and it saw the head representing the body. More so from his mafian background, that statement was taken literally.

_If he only applied that same philosophy as a father._

Tsuna let out a noncommittal hum.

“Enough. You’re wasting my time. Show me Quirks.”

Tsuna gasped mockingly. “Goodness, Endeavor! For a limelight hero you sure don’t know about dramatic tension, do you?”

The straight-up bored and annoyed look Endeavor shot him made him chuckle.

2:10

“Are they just… talking?”

“He’s lost his mind.”

“Are we sure that he didn’t hit his head from earlier?”

Shoto ignored the murmurs of the adults around him, instead opting to stare at the man laughing in the presence of his father. In all his life, he’s never seen anyone smile, let alone laugh, at or with his father. Not mom, not Fuyumi, not Natsuo, and maybe not his late brother. He didn’t know, he couldn’t remember what he looked like. Maybe some villains? But that didn’t count. Villains were bad.

It was odd. He was feeling odd.

Fuyumi told him that people laughed when they were happy. She told him that smiling and laughing came naturally when you were with people you liked.

So why did this hero laughing in front of his father? Was he a bad guy like he initially thought?

But Fuyumi said he was good? She said that this hero saved her and his big brother. She said he was nice. Was this what nice people did? Was that why All Might always smiled? But he didn’t feel like All Might… But he looked and sounded nice.

Was this how regular heroes were supposed to feel like?

He was odd. This man was odd.

2:10

“Endeavor—”

“I thought underground heroes were supposed to be _ quiet_.”

Tsuna snorted. He could list more than ten people on the top of his head that defied that stereotype—Ryohei and Squalo came immediately to mind.

“Alright, alright. Last question. Did you happen to keep a track of the time last round?”

2:00

Endeavor looked at him strangely. “Eight seconds left.”

He grinned. “So you haven’t. You see, it took four seconds for you to switch to a different tactic and throw fireballs at me. Ten seconds for you to switch tactics again, two more for you to land a hit on me. I was quite stunned that you could fly that I didn’t react fast enough—my idiotic mistake. It took, in total, twenty-one seconds for you to hit me—_twenty-two _ when I hit the floor.”

1:35

“Your point?”

“If you’re so eager to find out, have a few more _ seconds _of patience.” Endeavor scowled deeper at his own words being used against him. “You see, underground heroes may not be quiet, per say, but what we are… is observant. And the interior here is quite amazing to retain such heat and force without a crack!”

1:15

“Your. Point.”

Tsuna promptly ignored him. “Back home, my… community has this thing called “Vongola hospitality”. It was created by one of my ancestors, Ricardio. Basically, it means anything we take, we give in equal value; if they take from us, pay them back with _ double _the interest. My mentor taught me that and honestly, I would not only disgrace him but also myself if I were to go against such a traditional saying, wouldn’t I?”

0:50

“I’m not repeating myself.”

Tsuna laughed but his voice was flat and didn’t reach his eyes. “My apologies, it seems like I accidentally slipped in another question. Just one more comment—come now, don’t scowl—I promise. This will be the last thing I say before I start fighting.”

0:35

He lifted an open palm towards Endeavor, his other hand opening up behind him. His legs opened wide with his arms, knees slightly bent. To everyone this seemed like an odd stance, full of openings. It looked like he was bracing himself—as if the walls would close in on him.

0:33

Endeavor watched as Cielo assumed an odd stance. Now, normally this would make him suspicious and he would naturally stop whatever his opponent was doing before they could finish. But he was curious. Cielo seemed to know that as well and took his sweet time.

0:33

“Keep an eye on the clock.”

0:31

Endeavor reflexively glanced at the one-way mirror hiding the spectator's side from his view.

The lines on his face hardened. “...What—?”

0:30

** _BOOOOOM!!_ **

Endeavor could hear the deafening roar of Flames faster than he could see or even its heat—if there even was one. He quickly dodged, the surprised frown lifting into a smirk. He could still feel it ringing in his ears, the piercing sound being more akin to a jet engine than a wave of fire.

_Yes, Yes! Finally, this was—_

** _BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!_ **

_ !!! _

Endeavor jerked and jumped away, fire jutting out like engines, just barely dodging the blast—the _ continuous _blast. Cielo didn’t look any more tired than before, not even a drop of sweat from his own heat.

_ Yes, this is what Shoto can become! _

Cielo didn’t give him a moment’s rest as the roar of orange closed in on him like a cheetah hunting a wildebeest. Endeavor ran as he observed Tsuna attacking with his endless flood of fire, the one pointing towards him erupting harshly while a softer one growled behind him. He braced but otherwise kept stationary only angling his body and arms to chase him.

_ So he's a long-range fighter like I thought—_

Before he could finish that thought, Cielo appeared through the tunnel of flames with a _whoosh!_, advancing towards him in a burst, the fire tearing through the air like the wings of a jet.

0:25

Endeavor shot his arms out, using his larger frame to reach around Tsuna's back, gripping his cloak, one foot anchoring him to the ground as the other pivoted, rotating his torso, muscles ripping him from the air, using his own momentum against him to fling him down at a breakneck speed outside the ring.

Tsuna just as quickly flipped over, the muscles on his legs readying impact, uncrossing his arms behind him, expelling a massive jet of Flames as his foot touched the wall, using it as a springboard, he blasted off towards Endeavor. Barely registering it himself, Endeavor instinctively crossed his arms in front of him to lessen the impact as suddenly the heat shifted to his left side—his eyes widening a fraction, eyes unable to trace how the man moved so _quickly—!_

“You told me not to hold back,” Tsuna whispered, his voice slithering into Endeavor's ears like a snake.

—Before Tsuna bashed his side with a high-velocity Flame-fueled punch sending him rocketing off into the northern wall.

0:20

**CRASH!!!**

0:19

Tsuna landed on the tips of his toes, gently lowering his heel as if he finished an elegant duet, purposely upping the bravado as he bowed to the stunned man now lying outside the red line, a mockingly polite grin on his face.

“—but still, I only used as much power as needed.”

0:19

“Endeavor has stepped out of bounds! The final round goes to Cielo!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof there were a lot of perspectives to juggle. Hopefully, this chapter answers some of the concerns some of you had. Remember that although Tsuna is powerful, he's still human! Same goes for Endeavor. I know a lot of people wanted a complete Endeavor beat-down but 'tis not the moment yet. If you haven't caught it, this match was supposed to be a battle of information, not who was the strongest.
> 
> Thank you for the supportive comments and kudos! I know some people were disappointed in Tsuna's first L but remember that Tsuna's power comes from resolve. Still, everyone was respectful in their thoughts, so thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> Talk to me about BNHA! See my art and updates!
> 
> **Find me on:**  
✏️[Tumblr_quirkquess](https://quirkquess.tumblr.com)
> 
> 🧸[Pillowfort_quess](https://www.pillowfort.social/quess)
> 
> 🎨 **Art!**  
[Art that started it all ft. Shoto and Tsuna](https://quirkquess.tumblr.com/post/188295511267/quietsilenceus-july-21st-bonus-day-earth)  
[Remember when I said this was going to be a oneshot? ft. Shoto and Tsuna](https://quirkquess.tumblr.com/post/188295514187/oh-im-glad-people-like-the-crossover-art-maybe-i)  
[Chapter 1 Update](https://quirkquess.tumblr.com/post/188295521762/unbound-by-sky-chapter-1-quietsilenceus)  
[Chapter 10 Update](https://quirkquess.tumblr.com/post/190694358107/unbound-by-sky-chapter-10-quietsilenceus)  
[Chapter 10 Update but coloured and serious](https://quirkquess.tumblr.com/post/610885248507691008/coloured-version-of-that-one-sketch-for-unbound-by)


End file.
